


The Corrupt and the Pure

by Del_Rion



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremis Tony Stark, Kidnapping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 78,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Del_Rion/pseuds/Del_Rion
Summary: When the Steve Rogers from an alternate universe appears in the middle of the Avengers Tower, two worlds are about to collide: one where Captain America became the tool of HYDRA and fell into a relationship with the hero Iron Man – and one where Tony and Steve are tentatively getting along. The latter are forced to reconsider their relationship when the Commander kidnaps Tony to replace his dead lover.Written for:A story commissioned bySusanne(ChickenHax@ AO3 /starkred@ Tumblr).





	1. The Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChickenHax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenHax/gifts).



> ****
> 
> Story Info
> 
> **Title:** The Corrupt and the Pure
> 
>  **Author:** Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
> 
>  **Fandom:** The Avengers  & Captain America (MCU)
> 
>  **Timeline:** post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
> 
>  **Genre:** Drama, action, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **Rating:** MA / FRAO
> 
>  **Characters:** Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man). Also: Bruce Banner (Hulk), James “Bucky” Barnes (Winter Soldier), Clint Barton (Hawkeye), J.A.R.V.I.S., James “Rhodey” Rhodes (War Machine), Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), Thor, Sam Wilson (Falcon)
> 
>  **Pairing:** Steve/Tony
> 
>  **Warnings:** Rape/non-con, major character death (alternate universe), graphic canonical violence, M/M sexual content, language.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Iron Man, Avengers, and Marvel Cinematic Universe, including characters and everything else, belong to Marvel, Marvel Studios, Jon Favreau, Joss Whedon, Shane Black, Kenneth Branagh, Joe Johnston, Louis Leterrier, Alan Taylor, Anthony  & Joe Russo, Paramount Pictures, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, and Universal Pictures. In short: I own nothing; this is pure fiction created to entertain likeminded fans for no profit whatsoever.
> 
>  **Beta:** Mythra (mythras-fire)
> 
>  
> 
>  **About _The Corrupt and the Pure_ :** This story was pieced together from the things _**ChickenHax**_ / _ **starkred**_ liked. It’s been a long, stubborn project to write, the outcome not exactly what the original intention was, but I feel it is the most honest interpretation of the premise I can offer.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapters and statuses:** Below you see the writing process of the story’s chapters. If there is no text after the chapter’s title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter 1: The Knife**  
>  **Chapter 2: The Gem**  
>  **Chapter 3: The Tower**  
>  **Chapter 4: The Commander**  
>  **Chapter 5: The Duel**  
>  **Chapter 6: The Armor**  
>  **Chapter 7: The Captive**  
>  **Chapter 8: The Roster**  
>  **Chapter 9: The Talk**  
>  **Chapter 10: The Search**  
>  **Chapter 11: The Sleep**  
>  **Chapter 12: The Chip**  
>  **Chapter 13: The Spike**  
>  **Chapter 14: The Delay**  
>  **Chapter 15: The Frustration**  
>  **Chapter 16: The Temper**  
>  **Chapter 17: The Balm**  
>  **Chapter 18: The Bystander**  
>  **Chapter 19: The Clue**  
>  **Chapter 20: The Resistance**  
>  **Chapter 21: The Trail**  
>  **Chapter 22: The Clash**  
>  **Chapter 23: The Rescue**  
>  **Chapter 24: The Guilt**  
>  **Chapter 25: The Homecoming**  
>  **Chapter 26: The Clarification**  
>  **Chapter 27: The Strategy**  
>  **Chapter 28: The Fallback**  
>  **Chapter 29: The Pursuit**  
>  **Chapter 30: The Hit**  
>  **Chapter 31: The Soldier**  
>  **Chapter 32: The Rematch**  
>  **Chapter 33: The Resolution**  
>  **Chapter 34: The Wait**  
>  **Chapter 35: The Plan**  
>  **Chapter 36: The Warning**  
>  **Chapter 37: The Bait**  
>  **Chapter 38: The Ploy**  
>  **Chapter 39: The Captain**  
>  **Chapter 40: The Survivors**  
>  **Chapter 41: The Comparison**  
>  **Chapter 42: The Prospect**  
>  **Chapter 43: The Trial**  
>  **Chapter 44: The Mistake**  
>  **Chapter 45: The Consensus**
> 
> * * *

****

# Chapter 1: The Knife

  
  
****

### A motel outside Phoenix Deer Valley Airport,  
Arizona

  


The headboard of the bed banged a steady rhythm against the thin wall. There were already dents in the plaster, and as if triggered by the crescendo of moans, one of the cheap picture frames dropped from the wall, crashing to the floor. 

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Tony hissed, legs shifting on his partner’s shoulders, squeezing his neck in a clear sign that he was close. “Fuck me like you mean it, Cap,” came the sharp order, and like he’d done for most of his life, Steve Rogers did as he was told. 

His hips moved at the pace of the breaths forced out of Tony’s lungs, seeking his own release, leaving the other man moaning and twisting because their position didn’t allow him to touch his hard cock – something Tony had just discovered if his fingernails leaving half-moons on Steve’s hips were any indication. 

“Come on,” Tony encouraged, his voice breaking down around a groan, his back arching. 

One of Steve’s arms curled beneath Tony’s body and lifted him slightly, and his angle deepened just a fraction. 

Tony’s next groan was on the thin barrier between pain and pleasure, fingernails breaking skin. 

Steve bit his teeth into Tony’s shoulder and came with a sharp rush of release, growling his pleasure into the other man’s skin like an animal diving in for the kill. It was good, tingling all the way up his spine and pulling at his gut before shooting out of his balls and through his cock, the sensation like nothing else. It was easy to see how men got addicted to it, walking through life with their hands wrapped around their dicks, looking for the next chance to get off. 

Tony moaned and whimpered, sounding breathless. 

Steve drove one last thrust into him, feeling the slickness of his cum, and then pulled back, knowing that the position was making it hard for Tony to breathe. Sure enough, he looked a little red in the face, breathing in a big gulp of air as his hand shot away from Steve’s hip and to his cock the second he could fit it in there. 

“Yeah,” Steve growled, leaning in to watch after he released Tony’s legs from his shoulders. Tony’s chest was hot where he laid his forehead, eyes tracking the motion of his hand, smelling how close he was. 

Tony grunted and came, hips twitching, body quivering even with Steve’s weight on it. His cum shot out of his cock like a bullet from the barrel of a gun, a splash of it hitting Steve’s chin. 

Like always, Tony settled fast once he had come, lying boneless on the bed, a blissed out expression on his face. Steve sat up, wiping a hand across the mess on his face – sucked one finger in his mouth to taste. 

Tony chuckled. “I love it when you do that.” 

“Hmm,” Steve hummed and got up. 

“Where are you going?” Tony asked, hand reaching for him and failing to catch him. 

“Bathroom,” Steve replied. “I have to get ready.” He didn’t need to look at the clock to tell the time. 

Tony sighed dramatically, but there was a note of true discontentment in the sound. “I have a counter-proposition,” he said. 

Steve halted near the doorway of the bathroom, looking back at him; naked and sweaty he lay there on the bed, hair disheveled, the usually neat goatee showing the signs of their recent lovemaking. Steve could still feel the lingering burn it had caused on certain areas of his body – a reminder that would vanish all too fast due to the effects of the serum. The image, however, would last, and he drank his fill, knowing it could be a while before he had this again. 

“I say you don’t get on that plane you’re supposed to be boarding soon,” Tony went on as if Steve’s lack of progress was a sign he wanted to hear his proposition. “You can stay here, with me,” he spoke, shifting one leg, dragging it along the messy sheets. 

“I have a mission to get to,” Steve replied. 

Tony looked at his face, meeting his eyes. “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right?” 

Steve nodded slowly, then walked back to the bed and bent over, kissing the corner of Tony’s lips, feeling the beard, tasting the sweat. “I don’t know if that’s so… A few minutes ago you were telling me exactly what to do,” he murmured into his skin. 

Tony chuckled. “Such sass. That’s why I love you.” He stretched and settled again, not showing surprise when Steve pulled back and headed again in the direction of the bathroom. 

As Steve entered the painfully unnatural light of the tiny room, he looked at himself in the mirror. The marks of lips, teeth and nails were vanishing, leaving only the old, faded scars and cybernetic implants scattered across his skin, covering damages that the serum had been too slow to heal at the time. The right side of his face, as always, bore an ugly hand-shaped burn mark that was too resilient to heal, showing bone in places. 

He could still recall the searing pain of the grip of the hand pressing desperately into his skin, the smell of flesh burning… It had been the first time he and Iron Man crossed paths, and he had gotten so very close to ending Tony’s life that day. Well, until Extremis kicked Tony’s survival mechanism to a whole other level and left Steve with a lasting mark to remember his first failed mission by. 

They had fought many times since, and some of the damages to his body were leftovers from those altercations. Few people could deliver a punch like Tony did, for all his lack of formal training; guts and spirit were so much more important. 

It was that spirit that had enthralled him in the end, wringing passion out of their clashes, and standing here, years later – after having heard Tony drop the word ‘love’ for the first time… 

_‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’_

What did he want to do? 

He looked at himself again, a distorted image of the man he had once been. Sometimes he could no longer picture that face, and whenever he began to recognize it in himself – the sneer of disdain and disappointment reverberating from his very core – the scientists at HYDRA made sure to wipe that from his mind. 

Remember and forget, like a snake eating its own tail… 

When he was with Tony, it was easier to remember. It was easier to accept himself, even when it made him painfully aware of how far he had strayed from the former glory of Captain America. 

_I’m not him,_ he told himself. _That man died in a plane crash seventy years ago._

A familiar tale told in the history books. Only a few people knew how the story really ended – the grim sequel to the heroic tale of sacrifice. 

He shook his head, turning to get in the shower. Time was running short before his plane was scheduled to depart, and he had to be on it. He had a mission, and he had already gained what he’d wanted from his tryst with Tony. 

The shower stall was so small his shoulders kept brushing the walls, but it got the job done, washing the traces of their passion from his skin. A cleansing before the mission which he would have gladly made into a ritual, if only he could withstand Tony’s gaze on such a regular basis. 

After all, Tony knew he was going out on a mission, and it was his duty as Iron Man to come and stop him. 

There may be more scars the next time they see each other like this, but Steve was confident by now that he could not kill Tony even if he tried, and it was not for lack of trying. Tony, on the other hand, was yet to deliver the death blow, and Steve sensed it had very little to do with the idealism of heroes not killing anyone – not even the villains. 

Tony had killed plenty in the past while wearing the armor. Either Steve was an exception – or too stubborn to die. 

As he reached for the complementary bottle of bodywash, a sound reached his ears. His hands stopped, senses focusing to detect another disturbance. It was Tony, most likely moving around, but his gut told him otherwise and so he put down the soap and slowly stepped out of the stall, leaving the water on, careful not to make a sound. 

Opening the door slowly to keep it from making noise, he moved towards the main room, body ready for action even in his naked, wet state. In his line of work, you got used to expecting anything, at any time, and when his nose detected the faint smell of burning linens, he took the last step out of the bathroom, eyes sweeping the small room. 

He stiffened as his gaze made it to the bed and a scent of copper overtook the odor of smoke. 

“Bucky –” His word caught in his throat as the other moved, drawing his favorite blade out of the back of Tony’s neck. A gush of blood followed, bright red against the sheets, and Bucky moved away, allowing Tony’s body to drop down. 

The brown eyes were wide open, empty and lifeless. His neck was at an unnatural angle, and as seconds ticked by and Steve expected the bright colors of Extremis to rush to the surface of his skin, nothing happened. 

“Don’t look so shocked,” Bucky told him. “Since the moment you two stopped trying to kill each other, they knew it was only a matter of time before he made you into a liability. By removing him from the picture, we won’t have to worry about that.” Bucky pushed his knife into the sheets, casually cleaning it of Tony’s blood. “You were starting to stray, Rogers,” he said, moving off the bed, standing up, sheathing the knife. “Your head filling with dangerous ideas.” 

Steve had a hard time looking at Bucky and simultaneously staring at Tony, expecting him to jerk at any second, the wounds sealing themselves. 

“He’s dead,” Bucky snapped. “I did what you haven’t been able to do, all these years. He’s not coming back from this one.” 

Steve’s skin turned cold, his eyes finally meeting his best friend’s. Only, it wasn’t really Bucky but the Soldier, because Bucky would have never taken this from him. The Soldier, however, had no qualms about removing every obstacle in his way, and seeing as the two of them had been working missions for decades now, perhaps he had considered Tony an obstacle in both their ways. 

In one small moment, he had erased the one person Steve had felt close to, with whom he wasn’t the Commander or an asset, but simply… Steve. 

He hadn’t felt like a monster when he was with him. 

“He was making you weak, unfocused,” Bucky went on, stepping closer. “HYDRA has no tolerance for those who stray from the path. I just saved your life.” 

Steve lashed out, taking Bucky by the throat, a roar rising from his chest. He slammed him forward, all the way into the wall he had just been banging a hole into while fucking into Tony’s body, and the remaining pictures fell off their hooks as Bucky’s body hit the wall. “I loved him,” he hissed at Bucky, pressing into him, knowing that any second now, he would start fighting back. “I loved him and you took him from me.” 

He might never have said it, but looking at Tony’s lifeless form, seeing his blood soak into the sheets, the feeling exploded all over him and it was worse than all he could remember, the ghost pain of losing his world, over and over – the shattered remnants of choosing to nose-dive the HYDRA plane into the ocean. 

Bucky growled, his metal arm coming up, seizing the side of Steve’s face. 

Steve yelled and drew back a few inches, then slammed forward again, this time taking them both through the wall and into the next room. People shouted and moved away, a woman screaming. Steve bore Bucky’s body down to the floor with his and pounded at him, trying to get past the metal arm blocking his blows. 

Bucky twisted, wriggling out from beneath him, his right leg following and trying to kick Steve to the side. 

Steve rolled with the motion, just out of reach of the kick, his shoulder slamming into a bed as he ran out of space. He got up to his feet at the same second Bucky did, and this time it was the other who charged him with a sharp yell, taking them both down on the bed that crashed beneath them, legs giving out, the sharp drop making little difference to them. 

Bucky slammed his left fist down. Steve twisted to the side, feeling metal by his right ear, and then kicked up with his legs, sending Bucky forward and off the bed while he followed, rolling back over his shoulder and onto his feet, not bothering to turn but kicking back as he got his feet under him, catching Bucky full on the small of his back and sending him crashing forward into a closet. Wood cracked, Bucky’s left hand going through the closet door, and Steve turned and went after him – then got a torn-out piece of wood slammed in his face as Bucky yanked his arm out. 

The wood shattered into tiny pieces, flying everywhere. Steve tried to catch his balance, lowered his stance, and then took Bucky’s weight head-on, fighting to stay upright as the other pummeled him like a pissed off bull. 

Steve took a few punches to his midsection, feeling every impact on his unprotected skin, but it just fueled his rage and made him leave himself open for the next punch in favor of getting one arm around Bucky’s neck and twisting, forcing him to focus on keeping the upper hand and stop hitting him. 

They twisted and turned for a moment, grappling for a winning hold. At one point Steve had Bucky on the floor, his back grinding into the splinters of the door, but every time Bucky got himself free he came at Steve again, fighting for the upper hand. 

After all their years of fighting together, they were quite evenly matched, and Steve knew he was running out of time. As always, he looked at his surroundings, more adaptable than the Winter Soldier had ever been, and eventually he picked up a fallen lamp from the floor and smashed it in Bucky’s face, then attacked him while he was distracted, shoving him into the window covered by stained curtains. 

Glass shattered and Steve gave one more push, feeling a sharp edge draw a long line into his shoulder and upper arm. Bucky fell through, metal fingers grasping at the edge but ultimately failing to stop the fall, his body crashing down three stories before hitting the pavement outside. The fall wasn’t nearly enough to kill him with Zola’s serum in his system, but it would take him a while to get to his feet and by then Steve would be gone. 

He returned to his room through the hole in the wall, stopping short once he did, looking at the bed. Tony lay there, eyes still open, blood spread all over his upper body, seeping into the bedding. With stiff motions, Steve climbed onto the bed, carefully lifting him up by the shoulders. His fingers slid to the back of his neck, feeling across bloody skin, finding the entry wound of Bucky’s knife, leading up in a sharp angle. 

Tony had never told him if Extremis had limits, but HYDRA had always believed so. Steve had never been able to discover it for himself – a fact for which he had been glad when his feelings for Tony became clear – but sitting there with his lover’s dead body in his arms, fingers digging into his torn flesh as if he could physically put him back together, he felt an ugly sense of failure. 

He had not realized how much he looked forward to seeing Tony – had not taken the time to notice how much he needed him, and how far he was willing to go to keep him. Recruiting Tony to HYDRA had been an impossible concept, so the only real option left to them would have been for Steve to go rogue. 

_‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’_

Steve grit his teeth, eyes burning. His fingers tightened and he felt bones shift where Bucky must have broken Tony’s neck. 

Slowly he drew in a breath and made himself stand up, finding his clothes and getting dressed. It was a familiar process, one he knew by heart, and after he had holstered his weapons and finished the routine, he grasped his shield, bloody fingers leaving stains on the metal painted with black and gray. 

He looked back at the bed, trying to envision his last glance at Tony, alive and fresh from their fucking, asking him to stay. His mind failed him, almost as if the memory had become corrupt, and all he could see was what lay before him now. It filled him with a depthless rage, growing, deepened by his feelings that had infected him like a festering wound, splintering the brainwashing HYDRA had subjected him to since they found him in the ice. 

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to,” he said out loud, words clipped with emotion he could barely keep under control. His eyes bore into the sight of Tony, bloody, naked, and lifeless, taken from him so suddenly it felt like the shattered halves of a bone that kept grinding against one another. “I don’t want to live without you,” he concluded. 

He had made up his mind, and all he needed to do was to accomplish the impossible. 

Good thing he already had a plan forming in his mind. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	2. The Gem

****

# Chapter 2: The Gem

  
****

### The Vault  
(classified Stark International storage facility) 

  


As the elevator doors opened, Steve allowed the dead body of the Stark Industries technician to fall to the floor, blocking the doors from closing as he stepped over him and into the dim corridor. The man had served his purpose, getting him into the facility, but Steve knew he was short on time and the man’s absence would soon be noticed at his workstation, from where Steve had kidnapped him, and they would be hot on his trail after that. 

He had visited the Vault once before with Tony. It was a location that many organizations – HYDRA included – had tried to track down for years, and that Tony had actually let him in was like rubbing Steve’s face in the fact that their often toxic relationship was reaching a new level. 

They had taken this same elevator to the main vault deep beneath the surface, walking over to an observation window that showed the inside of a vault – and the single item it contained: the Tesseract. 

Steve stepped up to the window now, gazing at the blue cube that lay inside a containment capsule – an item which had sparked an attempted alien invasion a few years ago. Iron Man had fought against it, leading a group of other heroes called ‘the Avengers’, who had managed to defeat the enemy, and after some bumps in the road, Tony had taken possession of the Tesseract to keep it safe. 

Steve looked to his right, easily remembering his last visit to this place. 

_“Thor says it’s the Space Gem,” Tony said, casually leaning one hip against the wall beside the observation window. “It opens doors to other dimensions. Problem is, it can be controlled from afar if you know how, and that poses some issues… So, now it’s here, hidden away.”_

_“You don’t trust the Asgardians to keep it safe?” Steve mused._

_“After they had it taken right out from under their noses more than once, I began to question their methods. Good thing Thor agreed at the time, ashamed of the inability of his people to look after this one small thing.” Tony’s eyes glowed faintly blue as he stared at the cube – then flashed as he turned his gaze towards Steve. “Don’t get any ideas,” he said and stepped closer, sliding a hand across Steve’s chest. “I didn’t bring you down here so you could steal it, and besides… you already downed one plane to keep it from getting into the hands of HYDRA.”_

_“I remember,” Steve said. He did, small fragments at a time. They came and went, depending on how often HYDRA had wiped him recently. Those memories floated back, though, slowly but steadily, as if Steve were sitting at the mouth of the river and eventually the water would carry his scattered memories back to him._

_Memories of Tony, too. He liked those better than his past, now that they weren’t trying to kill each other every time they crossed paths. A part of him loved fighting Tony, no denying it, but the end was so much more satisfying._

_Tony must have seen it in his eyes because he moved closer still, positioning himself between Steve and the observation window. It was an open invitation and Steve took it, pressing their bodies together, hands grabbing hold of the unarmored body, so frail, so vulnerable…_

_When Tony reached up to drag Steve’s face into a kiss, it was clear he was not aware of any such weaknesses in his person. That knowledge ignited a fire inside Steve; it made him press Tony a bit tighter into the window, his lips feeding off the wild energy of the other man that had nothing to do with Extremis. Perhaps it was a left-over from the arc reactor, or the hours spent inside his suit, surrounded by the energy contained by the RT units. Or maybe it was the spirit that had surprised so many who thought less of him – who considered Tony defeated until he came back for one last strike…_

_Their kisses were making him hard and he pressed himself against Tony. The other let out a sound and then pulled back, leaning his head against the window. “Just kiss me,” he said._

_Steve supposed anyone could walk in on them, although he had not seen another soul inside the facility._

_Tony’s hand reached up, touching his face – tracing the scars their first collision had left. He didn’t fit his hand against the matching shape – he rarely did – but something flickered in his expression. Almost like sadness._

_Steve didn’t want to see it, so he bowed his head, leaned their foreheads together, and then claimed Tony’s mouth again, eyes catching the distant glow of the Tesseract before he ignored it in favor of focusing on the man in his arms._

With a blink, Steve snapped himself out of the memory. The hallway was dim and empty around him, as if no one had ever been here before him. There was no dust on the surfaces, however. 

He turned his gaze towards the Tesseract, just as bright and steady as the day he had first seen it. For an instant he had a hard time telling whether the memory was from aboard the _Valkyrie_ or in the Vault, but it did not matter. 

What mattered was that less than five feet from him lay what he needed, and nothing was going to stop him from getting it. 

Bracing himself, he lifted his shield arm and struck the edge of the vibranium against the observation window with all his power. It cracked into hundreds of small pieces, distorting the visual into the vault, and Steve struck the window again, this time breaking it inwards, the glass spreading out across the floor. 

Alarms began blaring in a high whine, the lights flickering, and Steve swiftly jumped into the vault, hearing something moving behind him as he landed: thick metal walls were lowering themselves from the ceiling, locking him inside the vault. They were thick and no doubt comprised of an alloy he would have a very hard time breaking through, but it didn’t matter: he was not about to leave through the door or the broken window, and he refused to entertain the idea that he would fail. 

The room descended into darkness, the only remaining source of light being the Tesseract itself. The mystical object made the shards of glass sparkle on the floor, Steve’s approach creating violent shadows on the walls. 

Steve touched the containment capsule, then knocked his knuckles against it. As transparent and thin as it seemed, it was firm, and it took him four precise strikes of his shield before the capsule cracked and fell apart, revealing his prize. 

With his arm aching from the impacts, Steve lifted his shield over his shoulder and onto the magnetic lock on his back, then reached out for the Tesseract, lifting it from its place. He expected it to be hot to the touch, or cold, but it was neither. There was a thrum of energy, however, and a sense of staring into something much greater than himself. 

Steve was not interested in the lore behind it, only its power. 

“I know what you can do,” he told the cube. His fingers squeezed around it tightly. Whatever happened next, he was at peace with it: if he failed, he would try again; if he died… well, that was one simple solution to his problem. 

Steve Rogers had never chosen the easy way out, though, and he would see this through, as far as he could. 

His grip almost painful around the cube, he stared deep into its glowing depths, eyes aching from the brightness of it. “Take me to him,” he ordered. And, if this was to be his last moment, he focused his thoughts and closed his eyes in concentration, recalling the familiar lines of Tony’s body he knew by heart; the smell of his skin; the soft caress of his sleeping breaths – then felt something burn through his entire being, the world warping and disappearing around him. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	3. The Tower

****

# Chapter 3: The Tower

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


Steve gazed out through the wall comprised of floor-to-ceiling windows. He could see most of Lower Manhattan from his vantage point, so far above the streets that it felt almost as if he was not part of the world below. 

It wasn’t just the height, he knew. Almost seventy years in the ice did that to a person; waking up to a world so different from his own after accepting that he was going to die… 

“Captain,” Tony Stark’s voice broke him out of his musings. “I’m sorry for making you wait.” 

“That’s alright.” Steve slowly removed his eyes from the scenery and turned to watch Tony’s approach. The man looked good, considering the hours of sleep he must have been losing after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell due to HYDRA’s exposal. There was this healthy glow to his skin that hadn’t been there the last time they saw each other, and Steve was glad for him. 

Tony came over and offered his hand for a shake. Steve took it briskly, then let go as soon as it was appropriate. It seemed to amuse Tony, who gave him a flash of a smile and turned away. “As it happens, I have something for you, Cap.” 

“Really?” Steve asked. He wasn’t in uniform, so the nickname felt strange. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he even was Captain America anymore. 

There were a lot of things he wasn’t certain about. 

“Yup,” Tony nodded and walked over to the doors that led to another room. The brief glimpse Steve got when the door opened suggested it was a lab space, but Tony didn’t linger there, returning with something large and circular in his hold. “Granted, I wasn’t on the lookout for it while fishing in the Potomac for remnants of the downed Helicarriers,” he stated as he spun the disc around with some difficulty, revealing the freshly painted surface of the iconic vibranium shield. He then proceeded to toss it like a Frisbee over to Steve, who caught it with much familiarity. “Don’t drop it again,” Tony ordered. “Large bodies of water are difficult places to find lost items.” 

“Point taken,” Steve said, sliding his fingers along the metal. “Thank you,” he added, glancing at Tony. “I didn’t think I was going to get it back.” 

Tony shrugged but looked content at his gratitude. “So, what else brings you here?” he asked. “You’ve been a busy guy.” There was so much left unsaid, and Steve preferred to keep it that way. 

“I need a breather,” Steve admitted. “Things have been hectic, and I’ll need to keep going soon, but for a day or so…” 

Tony spread his arms, gesturing at the room – the building – around them. “Avengers Tower. Stay as long as you want. You have a room ready and waiting.” 

“Were you expecting me?” Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“I have rooms prepared for everyone, and besides, seeing how well we got along the first time, I think we’ll all need our own space,” Tony noted. His expression grew more serious, then. “You’re going after Barnes, aren’t you?” 

Steve tensed. “Natasha told you?” 

Tony shook his head. “I can dig up information on my own. After the alarms went off when Project Insight went live… I have kept myself well-informed,” he concluded. “Not just for my own sake, of course,” he added, as if that were necessary. “Bruce got a little green under the collar for a few seconds. I thought I would have to rebuild the Tower for a second time.” 

Steve looked around. “Is he here now?” 

“No,” Tony replied – then chuckled, as if that were funny somehow. “He’s on an… expedition, I think he called it. With Jane Foster and her crew – and Thor. I wasn’t made aware of all the details, or if I was, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

_“You were fully informed, sir,”_ a voice corrected him, coming from all around them as if the room itself were speaking. 

“That’s J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony explained. “You’ll become familiar with him once you get settled.” 

Steve wasn’t so sure, although he had encountered intelligent programs at S.H.I.E.L.D. 

_“A pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers,”_ the sophisticated English voice greeted him. 

“Likewise,” Steve said, to not be rude. 

Tony chuckled again, as if the exchange amused him. “I understand if he creeps you out,” he stated. 

“I’ve gotten used to voices in the walls.” 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. is more than a voice,” Tony corrected him. 

_“I am not certain that bit of information will make the Captain feel more at ease, sir.”_

Steve looked around, trying to locate the sound system, but it was so fully integrated into the walls he could not spot a single speaker – or a camera, for that matter. If the same was the case in his own quarters, he would feel uneasy for quite a while, knowing he was being monitored but unable to see how. 

“So, we were talking about Barnes,” Tony reminded him. 

“You were,” Steve said, unsure whether this was a topic he wanted to broach with Tony. Then again, they were teammates, and Tony was letting him stay in his Tower. “I need to find him,” he finally conceded. 

Tony nodded. “I think I can help you with that.” 

Steve hesitated. “Not to sound ungrateful, but I think I want to do it my way.” 

“And do what, search every dark corner in every city of the entire world until you find him – and hope he didn’t take to the hills?” Tony challenged. “I’ve got ways to track people down. Give me a little time and I’ll at least be able to point you in the right direction.” 

Steve knew he would be a fool to dismiss the offer. He also knew that he may have subconsciously hoped for Tony to offer his help in the first place. After all, there were plenty of places where Steve could have gone for a bit of down-time while Sam got his things in order – and the commotion eased around the subject of S.H.I.E.L.D., as well as the various enquiries that were keeping his allies busy. 

At times Steve felt like a coward, keeping away from the people who would ask questions, but after he had recovered from his injuries, neither Natasha nor Maria Hill had requested that he appear before any of the committees looking into the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the sudden resurgence of HYDRA. 

It was as if they thought Steve had done enough, and whether that was good or bad… 

Tony must have read his expression wrong because he gave Steve an encouraging look. “We’ll find him,” he said – as if finding Bucky was a team effort and somehow touched Tony personally. For all Steve knew, Tony hadn’t even intended to catch that hot potato until a few minutes ago. 

Either way, Steve couldn’t help but be a little thankful. 

“I hear Hill works for you these days,” Steve spoke up, to take the subject away from his search for Bucky. 

Tony let out a sound that was hard to translate. “I’m sure she could have found work opportunities elsewhere, but I had something she sorely needed – and as it happens, she’s an asset.” 

Steve wondered what had spurred Maria to seek shelter with Stark Industries, seeing as she wasn’t Tony’s biggest fan. The other man must have seen his confusion because he grinned. 

“I have – as I’ve heard her refer to it – ‘an army of lawyers’; with the Senate on our asses about how HYDRA was able to infiltrate all of S.H.I.E.L.D. and most branches of the Government, the key members of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s organization need a safe haven. In some cases, I’ve provided that.” 

Steve wasn’t sure what Tony’s requirements were, and he was suddenly glad he didn’t need to seek actual shelter with him, just in case he didn’t meet the quota. 

Before either of them could speak again – Steve thought it might be a good time to be shown to his room – the lights flickered. Tony’s gaze jumped up, a frown instantly appearing on his face, as if something truly impossible were happening. 

“J, what’s up?” 

_“An energy surge is building up, sir,”_ the voice responded promptly. The lights went on flickering, faster and faster. 

“Is it the arc reactor?” 

_“No. The energy signature is completely separate from the building’s systems, causing a disturbance.”_

A pause followed and Steve shifted his shield, sensing Tony’s rising unease. Something was afoot, and although he didn’t know what, he had long ago learned to be ready for anything. His readiness only partially braced him for the slow build of light in the center of the room, the illumination strengthening and growing in increasing pulses. 

Steve shot a look at Tony, tempted to ask if something was going to blow. 

_“I have identified the energy signature, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. finally announced, speaking faster than before. 

“Spill,” Tony ordered, eyes on the lightshow. 

_“The energy matches that of the Tesseract.”_

They looked at each other, then back at the light. “Awesome,” Tony muttered. “Prep Mark 43.” 

_“Already in progress, sir. However, the interference from the surging energy –”_

The build-up of light reached a breaking point, a blue-tinted barrier growing around it like a cocoon for a few seconds before it all blew outwards, sending furniture and the two men flying away from the center of it. 

Steve hit a wall hard enough to make a dent in it, the force pushing the air out of his lungs. 

Tony crashed up against the bar, the sounds of breaking glass continuing long after the pressure faded and the room grew quiet save for Steve’s own breaths and Tony’s groan – and the hiss of a third person now standing in the middle of the ruined living room. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	4. The Commander

****

# Chapter 4: The Commander

  
  


Tony’s ears were ringing. Every time he moved, a sharp edge of broken glass warned him that it wasn’t a good idea, but eventually he had to ignore that and push himself to his knees and then onto his feet. He almost slipped on the wet floor, grabbing onto the counter for support, then squinted at the destruction in the living room. 

It was as if a bomb had gone off in there, but instead of smoke and fire, everything just looked like it had been shoved back like his body had been. Granted, the epicenter of the destruction looked charred, as if from intense heat, and Tony started towards it, frowning. 

“Cap, you okay?” he asked, his blurry vision fixating on the familiar, hunched-over figure. 

The blond raised his head at the sound of Tony’s voice, then slowly straightened and turned. Belatedly Tony realized something was very wrong with this picture, seeing as Steve’s clothing had suddenly changed into dark body-armor and the shield that had been on his arm was now on his back, bearing a much darker paint job than the one Tony had just handed to him. 

Blue eyes locked with his, bright and familiar, but an inch to one side Tony detected deep scarring, taking over almost half his face in a shape that seemed random at first, yet with longer scrutiny was almost like a grotesque hand-print. 

It was Steve, but it wasn’t. 

“Stark,” a voice came from his right and Tony jumped, his neck protesting as he whipped his head to the side to watch a more familiar Steve Rogers push himself to his feet. The clothes and shield were correct this time – and no facial scars, either. “You have an explanation for that?” Steve asked, shifting his shield minutely towards the third person. 

“I was hoping you’d have one,” Tony started, looking back at the banged-up copy of his teammate. 

“Tony,” the second Steve spoke up, sending shivers down Tony’s spine. Even his goddamn _voice_ was the same, although he had expected that. The man took a step forward, then stopped and looked at the item in his hand: the Tesseract. A somewhat deranged laugh rose from his chest as he looked up at Tony again, his jaw muscles jumping restlessly as if they didn’t know which expression to settle on. “I didn’t dare to hope it would work,” he said then, eyes quickly giving his counterpart a once-over. With Cap’s photographic memory, he needed nothing more. “At most, I thought it would jump me back in time.” 

“Okay,” Tony started slowly. “Let’s start from the beginning. Who are you?” 

New Steve’s gaze was heavy, making Tony want to look away, but he felt like he shouldn’t. “Steven Grant Rogers,” the man retorted. “We’ve met.” 

“You and I haven’t,” Tony corrected. 

A slow nod answered his words. “Tony – my Tony… God, he looked just like you. Talked just like you.” 

“Where is he?” Original Steve spoke up, slowly walking over to stand beside Tony to form a unified front. 

A shadow passed over the scarred face. “He’s dead.” 

Tony grimaced, unable to help it. “Are you from the future?” he ventured to guess, because if the Tesseract could open a door between two edges of the universe, it wasn’t a farfetched idea that it might be able to bend the rules of time and matter as they knew them. 

The scarred Steve took a slow look around. “What year is it?” he asked. 

“2014,” Tony replied easily. 

Another slow nod. “Same year, then,” he stated and once again looked at Tony, then at the other Steve. “A… different version, I think.” 

“That’s a safe assumption,” Tony agreed. 

“What do they call you?” the alternate Steve asked, pointing a finger at Steve. 

Steve frowned. “Steve Rogers – Captain America,” he added. 

“Hmm,” the other hummed. 

“What about you?” Tony asked. “I see you have the shield and some… gear.” 

“The Commander,” the man replied and looked at Steve again. “Born in Brooklyn in 1918?” 

“Yes,” Steve nodded. 

“Joined the super-soldier program in December 1941 –” 

“Toured with the USO group in 1942 –” 

“Saved Bucky and the other POWs in 1943 –” 

This drew a smile from the real Steve’s lips before it vanished. “Lost Bucky in the winter of 1944. Thought he was dead.” 

“Not dead,” his scarred version agreed. “Took out Skull and downed the _Valkyrie_ in 1945.” 

“Found in the ice in 2011.” 

“Ah,” the alternate Steve sighed. “There finally comes the defining moment in our pasts.” 

Steve frowned. “When were you found?” 

“In 1985.” 

“Does that mean he’s older than you?” Tony joked at the man standing beside him, then fixed his gaze on the second Steve Rogers again. “So, Commander –” 

“Call me Cap,” the man cut him off. “You always called me that, even when it was meant as an insult.” 

“Seems kind of rude when we barely know each other,” Tony hedged. Normally he wouldn’t mind insulting a person, but this was another Captain America and he didn’t want to get started on the wrong foot the way he had with his own version of the man. 

The Commander chuckled. “That never stopped you before. You reveled in the fact that you could get under my skin with such a simple word, to remind me of the man I no longer was. And then, after…” His expression grew distant for a second. “In the end, it was a reminder of who I could be; an indication that I could be free.” 

“Free?” Tony frowned. 

“Of HYDRA. You never approved, thinking that because I fought them once I should fight them again. That that man was still somewhere in me.” 

Tony gave his own Steve a confused look, then directed it at the Commander – or whatever the hell he wanted to be called. “You work for HYDRA?” 

“I take it he doesn’t,” he guessed, motioning at Steve. 

Tony had to laugh at that. “He just took them down for a second time, less than a month ago.” Steve gave him a look and Tony cleared his throat. “No, he most certainly does not work for HYDRA.” 

“So, you are still Captain America,” the Commander said slowly. “Are you an Avenger?” he asked out of the blue. 

“We both are,” Steve replied. 

Yet another nod, like the Commander was slowly accepting these facts that weren’t part of his own life. Tony didn’t envy his task, although he was still a bit unclear why the Commander was here in the first place. An accident, perhaps. Those seemed to happen around the Tesseract – which reminded him of the cube resting in the Commander’s grip. 

“You mind if I take that?” Tony asked, motioning at the Tesseract. 

The Commander looked down at it, the blue light reflecting off his eyes, playing mean tricks on the deep scars of his face. He shrugged, then, like it didn’t matter, tossed it over to Tony, who caught it with so much trepidation he almost dropped it. “I am where I want to be; I have no further need for it,” the Commander stated. 

“And what is it that you want?” Steve asked, voice tense. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled to learn that some version of himself was working for HYDRA. Truth be told, that was more than a little unsettling. 

The Commander looked back and forth between them. Tony felt like he was being evaluated. “How would you define your relationship?” he asked. 

Steve’s frown increased, while Tony felt like laughing again. 

“We’re teammates,” Steve replied, then looked at Tony for confirmation. 

“You could say that,” Tony agreed. 

“Hmm.” 

The Commander’s hum was almost dismissive, and it seemed to tick Steve off: “You didn’t answer my question: why are you here?” 

“I’m here to replace something I lost,” the Commander stated. 

“And what is that?” Steve pressed. “If it’s HYDRA, I’m sorry to inform you that that ship has sailed.” 

“Him,” the Commander replied coolly, pointing a finger at Tony. 

“Me?” Tony frowned. “Look, I’m sorry I died in your crummy world – it sounds like a really unpleasant place if you’re carrying the HYDRA flag – but this is where I belong.” 

“I’m not going back,” the Commander said. “There’s nothing for me back there. My best friend killed the man I love because he thought he was making me weak and question my orders – and he was right.” He took a step towards Tony, who backed away. 

“Hey!” Tony snapped. “I’m not sure if I just completely misunderstood, but in case I did not, I’m obligated to tell you that this ain’t gonna happen,” he gestured between them, clutching the Tesseract a little harder than necessary. “There are some profound differences between our world and yours, clearly, and until we determine whether you’re a threat, working for HYDRA –” 

The Commander moved forward so fast Tony barely had time to hold the Tesseract out of his reach, but instead of going for the cube, the Commander gripped Tony’s upper left arm in a tight grip. 

Steve moved, too, placing his shield between their bodies, wedging between them even when he wasn’t able to dislodge the Commander’s hold. “Let go of him,” Steve ordered. 

“You have no idea what you’re interfering with,” the Commander growled, fingers already leaving bruises on Tony’s skin. 

“I know exactly what it looks like – and you just confessed to being HYDRA, which makes you an enemy in our book.” 

“We were enemies in my world, too,” came the sharp retort. “He was Iron Man, the leader of the Avengers, a hero to the masses. We tried to kill each other for years.” His eyes fell from Steve’s and met Tony’s over the Captain’s left shoulder. “And yet, you and I ended up sharing something special.” 

“That’s not how I remember it,” Tony replied, trying to keep calm. He itched to drop the Tesseract and pry the Commander’s fingers from his arm, but the cube had caused them enough trouble in the past and he was certain Steve could take down his HYDRA counterpart if necessary. 

Something like hurt flashed in the Commander’s eyes, but it swiftly turned into steel – as did his grip, making Tony utter a small sound of pain, which prompted Steve to shove his shield more firmly against the Commander’s midsection. 

“I told you to let go of him,” Steve warned. “I won’t ask again.” 

“Your time is up, Captain,” the Commander snarled back. “You wasted your chance with him. I won’t make the same mistake.” His right hand came up fast, trying to seize Steve by the throat. Tony leaned back, giving Steve room to act, and the shield moved up, slamming against the Commander’s arm, blocking his attack and then banging him right in the face. 

Tony tore himself free of the Commander’s grip when it loosened fractionally, stumbling to the side. He almost fell over when Steve flew past him, landing on top of an upturned chair. Steve was rolling back as soon as the chair had collapsed beneath his weight, though, shield up and determination on his face. 

“Tony, get out.” 

“Just let me secure the Tesseract and I’ll help you beat him up,” Tony promised. 

Steve nodded, eyes on his opponent. 

The Commander was slowly releasing his own shield from his back, motions measured, unhurried. Tony was kind of glad the room was already in need of repairs because he had seen what Steve could do on his own, and to imagine two of him clashing together… 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., I need Mark 43,” he ordered as he dashed off to the other side of the room to Access his lab. 

_“Still in progress, sir.”_

“Also, evacuate the building, just in case.” 

_“Also in progress since the Tesseract charge began building up,”_ the AI replied. _“Most of the Tower has been cleared.”_

“Good,” Tony acknowledged as he reached the lab door. J.A.R.V.I.S. let him in without any trouble and locked the door behind him, the sounds from the living room muted by the barrier. “Open the high-risk containment safe. Top priority protocols to open it; use the pre-prepared list of people on the ‘alien artifact’ threat protocol.” 

_“Very well, sir.”_

Tony placed the Tesseract within the safe that opened, then watched as J.A.R.V.I.S. sealed it away. He wasn’t going to get caught with his pants down when it came to the cube, but right now it felt like securing the object wasn’t his top priority and he needed to get back to apprehending the Commander. 

Something slammed hard against the lab’s wall behind him, the sound of impact making him jump. Tony turned around to see Steve pinned against the reinforced safety glass, the Commander pressing his forearm at Steve’s throat while blocking his attempts at escaping. It looked like Steve was losing, which was a surprise, and it made Tony even more aware that he should not underestimate this threat. 

“Tony,” the Commander grunted out, effort evident in his voice; it wasn’t a breeze for him to hold down Captain America. “Come out,” he ordered. 

“I’ll come out shooting,” Tony muttered. 

_“Sir, you are aware that after the latest launch tests, the Mark 43 armor is still located on the assembly ramp outside?”_

Tony huffed out a breath to keep from swearing. “Okay, new plan: running, then shooting. Assemble the armor, ready it for speedy pilot entrance.” 

_“Is there a slow version of it, sir?”_

“Not now, J,” Tony ordered, although his AI had a point: Tony rarely entered the armor these days when he wasn’t in some kind of a hurry. 

His eyes briefly moved towards the struggling men. The angle was not ideal, but Steve looked bloodied and bruised, and the arm on his throat was definitely sapping his strength. The Commander looked like he was waiting, eyes aimed at a spot by Steve’s shoulder – trying to locate Tony within the lab. J.A.R.V.I.S. must have made the walls opaque to the outside, which gave Tony a tiny advantage. Then again, there was just one door, and while the two men weren’t right beside it, Tony knew the Commander could count his exit routes with one finger of a single hand. 

Unless… 

Tony grinned and walked to the right, entering the door between his and Bruce’s labs. He moved quickly, knowing the door would take him a bit further from the assembly ramp, but it would also give him more room to maneuver once outside; Steve was a fast runner, so he had to assume his HYDRA counterpart was as well. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Tony pressed his hand to the door, prompting it to unlock and open. As soon as he could squeeze through the gap, he did, running out towards the windows and the platform outside where Mark 43 was already assembling independently. 

“Tony!” A strangled, rough shout reached his ears, and Tony couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder to check its origin: Steve had sagged down to his hands and knees on the floor, looking out towards him, blood staining his face and chest heaving; the Commander was running after him and Tony realized he wasn’t going to outrun him no matter how he tried. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S.!” he yelled, stopping and turning to face the approaching threat, “activate weapons systems.” 

_“Booting up, sir,”_ the AI said, informing him that they were a few seconds away. 

“Alright,” Tony muttered, lowered his stance and tried to think back to all the lessons he had gotten in self-defense, but knowing that if this man had taken down Steve Rogers, he wasn’t going to fend him off without the suit. “Bring it on,” he told the Commander anyway, who slowed down, stopping three feet in front of him. That he didn’t outright attack Tony was unnerving, making him wonder what would happen next. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the man told him. “I’m not here for that.” 

“You’re HYDRA,” Tony started, which was a pretty good leading argument. 

“I was HYDRA the entire time we slept together,” the Commander snapped. 

Tony tried not to dig too deep into that statement. “Then the ‘me’ in your version of the world was an idiot,” Tony decided. 

A rueful smile met his words. “Really? That’s your argument?” He began slowly moving, sideways rather than towards him, and Tony followed, not letting him any closer, always facing him. “I’ve spent countless nights with you. I know you,” the Commander claimed. 

“I doubt it,” Tony countered and heard the telltale snaps of the final sealing joints of the armor. He shifted his hand, indicating for J.A.R.V.I.S. to bring the armor forward and back him up. 

The motion was not lost on the Commander, who slowed down his circling, keeping Tony between himself and the approaching armor. “I fought you longer than I fucked you,” he added. “I know your tricks and toys.” 

It was a too-familiar choice of words, but Tony let it go. “You and the Steve Rogers I know are like day and night. Doesn’t inspire much confidence that I and your Tony Stark are much alike, either. You know nothing about me – and I’m more than willing to prove that, too.” 

The Commander nodded an affirmative. “Tell me something before we begin.” 

“What?” Tony snapped impatiently, listening to the armor’s approach. The room was a tight space for flight, although Tony and J.A.R.V.I.S. would make it work if they had to. 

“Do you have Extremis?” 

Tony faltered. “How is that relevant?” he asked. 

A smile tugged on the Commander’s lips. “Not so different, then.” His eyes flashed onto the armor while his right hand dug into a pocket of his uniform. 

“Careful, J,” Tony murmured. “He might have some tricks of his own.” 

_“I am scanning his body-armor,”_ the AI responded through Mark 43’s speakers. _“Weaponry and explosives detected; the shield is vibranium, identical to Captain Rogers’. He is also in possession of a substance labeled as Tranq-Ex.”_

“What’s that?” Tony asked. 

_“I would require a sample to inform you, sir.”_

“It’s something my Tony created, to prevent the more…. volatile side-effects of Extremis,” the Commander said. “The fact that you don’t know that leads me to suspect you’re either not using Extremis to the same extent he did – or are just a slow learner.” 

“Hey!” Tony snapped, insulted. “For that, I’ll punch you in that all-American jaw of yours.” 

“You will try,” the Commander said. “Often, you failed.” 

“I am _not_ him,” Tony stressed and looked past the Commander to spot Steve getting back to his feet, looking pissed off and a little too disoriented for it to be a good sign. “Also, it’s not just me you’re up against,” Tony added and began walking backwards towards the armor. “I don’t know how things worked in your world, but here… the Avengers are a team.” 

Well, that wasn’t exactly true, seeing as they had only battled one alien invasion together, but Tony had made certain boasts in this very room while alone with Loki, and he could do it again. He just hoped he wasn’t getting tossed out of the window again. 

Steve relocated his shield and slipped it on his arm, starting to approach the Commander from behind. Tony took that as his cue to hurry things along and quickened his step, hearing the armor start to unlock to let him inside. 

The Commander pulled his hand from his pocket, holding something that looked like a tiny button or a disc. He rubbed his fingers over it, as if warming it to his touch – then leaped forward. 

Tony reacted instinctively, trying to get out of the way. He stumbled past the armor that was in the last stages of opening up, and then his feet were swiped out from under him, sending him onto his back on the floor. The Commander slipped past him, tackling the armor to the floor as well – then veered back towards Tony. 

Jerking away, Tony tried to get to his feet, knowing Steve was very close to reaching them; he had to hold on for a few seconds and then this embarrassing spectacle would be over. 

The already-familiar iron grip returned, taking him by the shoulder and yanking him back. Tony blindly jabbed back his elbow, trying to catch something that would hurt, but the other man’s larger weight pressed him down, not trying to restrict him or incapacitate him as much as reaching for his face. 

“I’ll burn your face off,” Tony hissed in warning, anger spiking inside him. 

“You already did,” the Commander retorted and firmly pressed the small button-sized disc against his temple. 

Tony screamed as sharp pain assaulted his nervous system – then everything went numb, shooting like a wave from his brain, traveling across his body to the very tips of his fingers and toes, bringing nothing but blackness in its wake. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	5. The Duel

****

# Chapter 5: The Duel

  
  


From the second he’d wedged himself between Tony and his counterpart from some alternative reality, Steve had known it was going to come to blows. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but the other man was out of line and seeing Tony go on the defensive made up Steve’s mind for him. 

Steve was hyper-aware of the tight grip the Commander had on Tony’s arm. Despite his warning, the other man wasn’t letting go, and for some reason it felt like he really didn’t care for the Tesseract at all. Steve wasn’t certain why exactly they were fighting – or what the Commander really wanted – but he was going to take him down and ask those questions later. 

It wasn’t chivalry that made Steve act, although he would have always defended a dame being handled in such a way. Tony was no dame, but he was his teammate and this HYDRA agent wearing his body was a threat. Until Tony got into one of his suits, Steve was going to look out for him, knowing he was at a disadvantage. 

Every time the other Steve spoke about his life – and his obvious connection to Tony – he got a feeling akin to taking a punch in the gut. Steve wasn’t innocent; he understood what lay beyond the insinuations, and they made his skin crawl. He stayed out of it, listening and trying to learn their enemy that way, knowing that Tony was the one with words and would eventually make the Commander reveal his true colors. 

Indeed, it did not take long before Tony hit a nerve of some kind, and the Commander’s grip must have tightened if the sound of pain coming from Tony was any indication. Steve knew his own strength – that he could crack bones when he wanted to – and he pressed his shield more firmly against the Commander’s body, trying to put an extra inch between him and Tony. “I told you to let go of him,” Steve reminded, readying himself for a fight. “I won’t ask again.” 

“Your time is up, Captain,” his scarred copy replied in a snarl, but instead of issuing some threat, he returned to the one topic that kept throwing Steve off: “You wasted your chance with him. I won’t make the same mistake.” 

Steve almost missed the shift in the other’s balance, the Commander’s free hand coming up to strike him, but Steve lifted his shield just in time, slamming his hand up and then thrusting forward, smashing the shield into his copy’s face. 

Tony wrenched himself free behind him, falling back. Steve was just about to check on him, to make sure he was okay, when the Commander recovered faster than he thought he would, spinning and kicking Steve high in the chest, sending him flying backwards; he crashed on top of some piece of upended furniture that cracked beneath his weight and collapsed like a house of cards. 

His muscles singing with readiness, Steve rolled back to his feet, eyes on his target. “Tony, get out,” he called through the ache in his chest, not wanting Tony to get caught in the middle – holding the Tesseract of all things. 

“Just let me get rid of the Tesseract and I’ll help you beat him up,” Tony replied, much as Steve should have expected. 

He nodded his agreement, eyes still on the Commander who was slowly removing the shield from his back – a motion Steve was quite familiar with. The body armor was much like his stealth suit had been, designed by S.H.I.E.L.D. – or possibly by HYDRA, as it turned out. No wonder there were similarities… 

The Commander let out a scoff, like he was disappointed with his adversary, and Steve moved forward, to show him just how wrong he was. He was not going to lose to a version of himself that was part of HYDRA – not when there was still fight left in him. The other might not be from their world, but wherever he came from, taking him down would be for the better. 

As Steve rushed into an attack, the Commander stood his ground – then shifted at the last moment, trying to attack Steve from the side. Predicting it, seeing as it was a tactic he often used, Steve twisted accordingly, bringing up his shield to block the impending attack. 

The collision of vibranium against vibranium felt like it was going to grind into Steve’s bones, pain radiating down his arm. It took him by surprise, having never experienced it before. 

His counterpart either shook the shock of the impact faster or didn’t feel the pain, socking Steve in the jaw with a fist that felt like it was metal covered by flesh. Steve flew back, reflexively blocking the next strike and trying to get in one of his own, but the Commander was just as fast. 

They circled each other viciously, throwing punches, blocking them, testing each other’s fighting styles, finding them nigh identical. Steve noticed the Commander was fractionally less agile, perhaps due to some old injuries seeing as he had been awake longer, and he decided that would give him an edge. 

“Nice try,” the other growled after Steve had rolled to the side, kicked back from a wall and managed to elbow the Commander in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “You’re running out of time, though.” 

“Better make this fast, then,” Steve spat back. “I’m not the one going down.” 

“Oh, but you are,” the Commander informed him, as if he knew it for a fact. 

“How d’ya figure?” 

“Because you have nothing at stake in this fight.” 

Steve stilled for an instant. “I can think of plenty –” 

“Bullshit,” the other hissed. “You’re fighting me because you think that’s the right thing to do. I’m fighting for something I love.” 

_Tony…_

“He’s not the man you knew,” Steve told the other, slowly positioning his body in between the Commander and the lab where Tony had disappeared. “I’m sure you came here with a purpose, but he isn’t it.” 

“You have no idea,” the Commander snapped and moved forward, throwing in a punch. Steve blocked it easily and kicked the other in the head, making him drop his shield. Knowing his chances had just improved, Steve moved forward, following the Commander’s attempt to evade his attack – then heard a familiar slip of metal from beneath him a second before his foot landed on his opponent’s fallen shield. The Commander gave it a shove, upsetting Steve’s balance, and in a fraction of a second he was going down, the other’s elbow following him, banging his skull into the floor. 

Steve’s ears rang, skull throbbing painfully, blood flooding his mouth. He struggled to get up and received a vicious kick in the gut that felt like it might just come out through the other side. The force behind the kick made him roll a few feet to the side, leaving him sprawled and disoriented on the floor. 

“I know you learned to play dirty in the war. Seems like you forgot the beautiful art of deception and taking a few punches to land the most important one,” the Commander sneered at him as he strode over and then bent down to pull Steve up by his hair – then punched him right in the face. Before Steve could see through the spots filling his vision, a hand was on his throat, painfully tight, lifting him up with all the strength he knew he possessed and then some. 

Steve struggled, trying to land a kick of his own, but found his body slammed backwards into a wall and the fingers replaced by a forearm on his throat, threatening to break his neck and depriving his lungs of air. A countdown started in the back of his mind, telling him how long he had to land a punch and get himself free before he no longer could, but the Commander was pressing his body just close enough to make his struggling ineffective. 

“Tony, come out,” the Commander called out, voice strained as Steve tried to twist himself free one more time, his legs working to hit something that would make the other’s stance falter. He was fighting himself, though, and it was starting to dawn on him that all the tricks he had up his sleeve were known to his opponent. The Commander wasn’t trying to punch the daylights out of him, but instead waited for his body to shut down on its own from lack of oxygen. 

Steve’s eyes searched the room wildly, trying to see an out – to see whether Tony was taking the bait. He ached to tell him not to, but Tony was notorious for following his own instincts, and seeing as Steve had just about lost the fight… 

A door opened farther down the length of the room; it wasn’t the lab Tony had entered, but it put some distance between them as Tony took off running towards the windows. 

The Commander pushed away from Steve, letting his body drop to the floor like a discarded toy. Steve’s lungs struggled to draw in air and keep himself from falling unconscious. He kept his head up even though his vision was still spotty and realized that no matter the head-start, Tony was going to be caught. 

“Tony!” Steve called out in warning, not knowing where he was headed but knowing he wasn’t going to make it. 

Tony, the idiot that he was, turned to look over his shoulder – then stopped entirely, calling out to the computer-voice. He turned towards the Commander who promptly came to a halt, seeing as his prey was no longer moving. They faced each other, Tony looking like he was going to fight, which made Steve struggle to get to his feet, knowing his teammate was outmatched out of his armor. 

He heard bits and pieces of their exchange, Tony’s retorts sharp while the Commander was trying to convince him of what had passed for truth in his world. Steve was glad for Tony’s quick wit because he would have had no idea what to say to the man in response to his claims. 

Heavy footsteps from the far side of the room made Steve fix his gaze in that direction, and to his relief he saw Tony’s armor begin a steady approach; Tony suddenly seemed more confident while the Commander grew wary. 

As the two of them spoke, Steve focused on getting his body under his control again, knowing that time was of the essence but that he also needed his wits about him if he wanted to win against the Commander. Failure sat ill with him, after all these years, and if anyone asked Steve, he was far from finished. 

Problem was, as much as he could _do this all day_ – so could his opponent, most likely. He needed to be aware of that and think of alternative ways to defeat him, and that was where teamwork entered the picture: with the armor in play, Tony could tilt the scale in their favor. Steve wasn’t about to leave Tony to battle the Commander alone, though, and he began searching for his shield in order to get back in the fight. 

Locating the metal disc with his eyes, he pushed himself up and proceeded to walk over to his trusty weapon, carefully bending down to retrieve it, not making a sound. 

The Commander’s attention was completely aimed at Tony, his hand reaching into his pocket for something – a weapon, perhaps – and Tony was retreating towards his armor which was opening up at the front in a very complex-looking way. 

It was definitely a warning sign that Steve had difficulty focusing on their conversation, even though it was getting easier by the second. When he heard Tony use the words ‘Avengers’ and ‘team’ in the same sentence, he knew the other was expecting him to join the fight. It wasn’t like Tony to ask for help, but Steve knew they should not underestimate the Commander – especially when he had boasted that he had extensive knowledge of Tony’s armor and fighting style. 

Steve ordered himself to move, sensing they were running out of time. It didn’t matter who made the first move because the other two would adapt to it, but he still had a feeling they shouldn’t let the Commander set the pace of the fight any more than he already had. 

As he approached, eyes moving between the Commander, Tony, and the armor, he saw the Commander removing his hand from his pocket, an item between his fingers. It was small, the shape and size of a coin, but he didn’t get a good look at it before the Commander launched towards Tony. 

Instinctively, Tony moved back to get out of the way, which made it easy for the Commander to move his foot and unbalance Tony. The Commander swiped Tony’s legs from under him – just as Steve expected he would – but instead of immediately going after him, Steve’s alternative counterpart rushed the armor instead, his weight tackling it to the floor as if the suit didn’t have full control while still waiting for Tony to get inside. 

The Commander turned back towards Tony, who was trying to move away as quickly as possible, but the super-soldier was faster, yanking him back by his shoulder. Tony’s elbow almost caught the Commander in the face before the man pressed down on Tony with all his weight, hands reaching for his face. 

Steve forced his feet to move faster, sprinting forward. His first instinct was to throw his shield but he didn’t want to let go of it when their enemy could handle it with the same knowledge he did. He came to regret it a second later when the Commander reached his goal and pressed the tiny disk-device against the side of Tony’s face. 

The effect was immediate: Tony screamed and jerked, then went completely still. 

Steve had led troops into battle in dozens of missions before his long sleep in the ice. He knew the signs when victory began slipping from their grasp, the momentum tilting in their enemy’s favor – and losing his only advantage in this battle was a sure sign that if he did not act swiftly, they were not going to recover. 

With a yell of determination, Steve tackled the Commander, forcing the man off Tony’s unmoving form. His opponent grunted and hissed, rolling to recover his balance, and Steve quickly did the same, backing up, shield raised between them as he remained crouched beside Tony. 

He chanced a quick look at the man. “What did you do to him?!” he demanded, eyes on the Commander; he could not afford to let him out of his sight, knowing such a mistake would cost him dearly. 

“He’s merely unconscious,” the Commander replied, rising to his feet. “I didn’t come here to fight you, but if you refuse to get out of my way…” he threatened, taking a few slow steps towards Steve. 

Knowing that he needed to even out the playfield, Steve got to his feet. He could do nothing for Tony right now – not before he had subdued the threat standing before him. “If you know me at all – which I think you do – you’ll know that I won’t budge an inch,” Steve promised. 

A hard smile countered his words. “We can do this all day,” the Commander agreed. “However, I don’t intend to make this last.” 

The fingers of Steve’s shield arm tightened into a fist. “We’ll see,” he vowed. 

With a sneer, the Commander attacked. Steve met him head on, thrusting his shield and shoulder up as he dodged lower, throwing the other’s body up and over. Most men would have crashed down, but the Commander reacted just in time to grip the edge of Steve’s shield. That resulted in both of them falling down, Steve’s left forearm flaring with pain as his opponent used the shield to twist his arm while his legs wrapped around Steve’s body. 

Knowing he needed to get free and fast, Steve wriggled his arm free of the shield’s straps and fought to turn around in the other’s hold, punching before he could even see his target. 

The Commander parried the strike but wasted precious seconds tossing Steve’s shield to the side, unable to block the next punch. Steve didn’t let up, his advantage shaky at best. Beneath him the Commander snarled, trying to catch one of his hands – then Steve felt his lower body shifting and the Commander boosted his lower half off the floor, one knee almost catching the side of Steve’s head. 

Rolling to the side to avoid being caught in a hold that might break him, Steve struggled to his feet and advanced, knowing that he had the upper hand until the Commander got to his feet. He fully intended to use that against him, but the Commander surprised him by not even attempting to get fully upright, instead ramming his body towards Steve’s while he was barely on his knees, almost tackling him back to the floor. 

He kept his footing but something seriously hurt in his gut at the impact, signaling to Steve that he probably had injuries from their first round that required medical attention. Hell, it was possible the shotgun wounds were still acting up, seeing as it wasn’t that long ago he was lying in a hospital bed. 

With his reaction time lagging, the Commander seized the opportunity and without hesitation or a flicker of sympathy elbowed Steve in the groin. Without a uniform to absorb some of the blow, the pain brought Steve to his knees – just in time for the Commander to stand and deliver one last kick to his head that sent him to the floor, the world spinning violently. 

“You got in my way, Captain,” the man told him, almost as if he regretted their fight. “Should we cross paths in the future, do not make the same mistake.” 

Steve saw his boot swinging towards him before he felt the heat of pain on his face and neck and everything went dark, swallowing the pain with it. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	6. The Armor

****

# Chapter 6: The Armor

  
  


His equivalent in this world was tough, but Steve was on a mission and he would not be deterred. Once the Captain lay still on the floor, blood running down his face, he turned to fetch his shield and his prize – only to realize all opposition had not yet been overcome: the armor he had tackled to the floor was leaning over Tony Stark’s still form. 

With a growl of frustration, Steve looked around for his shield. He located it – still laying where he’d left it on the other side of the room after setting his trap for the Captain while Tony was still hiding in his lab. 

While Tony’s armors did not often act on their own, he knew of J.A.R.V.I.S. and that the AI could make independent choices. There had been instances where Tony had been incapacitated and J.A.R.V.I.S. had shown his true colors and capabilities; the AI was capable of truly astonishing levels of destruction, all of it precise and calculated in order to reach the intended goal. 

Not knowing how the J.A.R.V.I.S. of this world matched the one he had dealt with, Steve chose the next best thing and slowly walked over to the Captain’s fallen shield, picking it up. Identical to his own in weight and shape if not the paint job, it would work just as well as his own. 

As he began to approach the armor, the helmet turned towards him, making it abundantly clear his presence had been noted. _“Deactivate the Tranq-Ex,”_ the AI demanded through the armor’s speakers. 

“Can’t do that yet,” Steve replied, moving closer. 

_“Cannot or will not?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. challenged, the armor standing up and facing him. The repulsors whined, coming to life in blatant threat, and the right arm rose in one of Tony’s signature poses, ready to fire. 

Briefly he wondered if Tony and the Captain had ever really fought each other. Did J.A.R.V.I.S. know how to best counter his attacks, or would Steve be facing a standard pattern detection? There was no way of knowing and he had wasted enough time on his copy as it was. 

“I’m taking him with me,” Steve announced. “You can try to stop me, but you will fail.” 

The AI did not reply verbally, firing instead. Steve brought up the shield, the blast bouncing off it, striking the armor in the shoulder, forcing it to take a step back and stumble in order not to land on top of Tony’s unconscious body. 

Taking the opening, Steve charged, slamming shield first into the armor’s chest, barreling them both down to the floor. Without hesitation, knowing he might get shot or shocked at any second, he lifted the shield and turned it on its side, hands squeezing the edges hard as he brought it down against the armor’s chest, just beside the arc reactor, seeking to severe its connection to the rest of the armor. 

He had tried to slice an arc reactor in two back in the day – and had come to regret it instantly. Sure, the following explosion had almost finished both him and Iron Man, but he still carried various old burn marks that ached in a certain kind of cool, damp weather, and there were so many other ways to dismantle the suit without getting both of them killed. 

Not that there was a pilot inside right now, and he could not afford to forget that: man and machine moved differently. That was why the armor’s hand came up to punch him to the side, almost dislocating his jaw; he may have caused damage, but J.A.R.V.I.S. was much harder to shock and surprise than his creator, and the AI’s response time was that of an intelligent, sentient program. 

With a deep gash in its chest spitting sparks, the armor got to its knees and then to its feet, aiming at Steve again, firing a repulsor. Steve twisted his body, getting the shield between himself and the blast just in time. The repulsor blast rebounded and hit a wall, carving a deep hole into it. 

J.A.R.V.I.S. decided not to shoot at him for a third time, learning from his previous two attempts. It was more than could be said for Tony, who had spent countless battles tirelessly attempting to get past Steve’s defenses – even though Cap’s use of his shield had been legendary since WWII. 

Some people never learned – or they thought that if they kept pounding on the unyielding obstacle long enough, it would eventually _yield_. 

Steve was not about to wait that long, knowing that if he went head-to-head with J.A.R.V.I.S., he would lose. 

Knowing it was a risk, not knowing how well aware the AI was of his fighting tactics, Steve sent the shield flying. It collided with the armor’s forehead before bouncing against the ceiling and back to his hand when he moved to the side to catch it. Then he sent it flying again, this time catching the armor’s knee with it, almost sending it tumbling down. 

Third time, the armor tried to catch the shield, but was too slow to do more than scrape against the metal disc. 

Smiling, Steve moved to intercept the shield once more – then sent it flying with much more force, right at the armor’s faceplate. While he knew J.A.R.V.I.S. could use the cameras in the room, the AI was likely to rely more on the sensors of the armor, and that put him into a similar position as a human pilot: reflexively, the armor’s arms moved up to block the shield. 

It was too late to stop the projectile from striking its mark, sending the armor stumbling back, and Steve turned and ran, knowing this was his chance to go and fetch his own shield. As similar as the borrowed shield was, it was not the same, and besides, two weapons were always better than one. 

He heard the Captain’s shield being flung to the side and the armor moving back to its feet – then taking flight. That surprised him, making his steps falter slightly, but he still continued on towards his shield, bending down to fetch it from the floor and turning around to face the armor which was now hovering in the relatively tight space of the room. What advantage J.A.R.V.I.S. thought he would have by flying, Steve did not know, but he had defeated Iron Man on open ground and he could do so in the confines of an enclosed space, especially when he knew the AI would try to avoid damaging the building around them. 

The gash on the armor’s chest was still spitting sparks every now and then, but it seemed J.A.R.V.I.S. had contained the damage. It was also possible this armor was a stronger design, seeing as this Tony clearly didn’t rely on Extremis as much as his Tony had. 

Steve decided it didn’t matter: he fought to win, to get back what he had lost, and no one would stand in his way as long as he was still breathing. He had come this far – had crossed the barrier between two realities – and he could almost taste Tony’s skin under his lips… 

The telltale whine of a repulsor warned him before the armor fired at him again, giving him ample time to get out of the way. Another shot followed, almost grazing his shin, and Steve decided he had wasted enough time; the armor had a certain advantage at being airborne, even indoors, and they could continue the game of hit-and-miss until the Captain stirred and Tranq-Ex ran out of juice. 

Steve was not about to lose this chance to reunite with his lover. He had come too far, burned the bridges behind him, and besides, Steve Rogers never gave up. Not as a 90-pound asthmatic weakling, and not as a 240-pound serum-enhanced soldier. 

_‘You gave up when you rolled onto your back for HYDRA, spread your legs, and stopped thinking of America.’_ Tony had told him that once, in the moment of his own defeat, his armor broken as he lie on the ground, bloodied and full of spite. Steve had hit him, feeling angry – _feeling ashamed_ – and relished the taste of copper as he had kissed Tony for the first time. 

He had tried to fuck the fight out of Tony, but no matter how hard, the words had always been at the tip of Tony’s tongue, ready to remind him of his shortcomings, of what he had allowed HYDRA to twist him into over the years. 

The poison in Tony’s words had not weakened even when his insults had grown father apart; stinging remarks had been exchanged for gentler reminders of his downfall, and for a time Steve had preferred the words filled with hatred and disdain. Tony’s anger had always been easier to dismiss than his true feelings. 

With Tony’s death, Steve felt like he had lost the only chance at ever reclaiming the man he used to be. He hadn’t known whether that was even possible anymore, nor had he truly considered atonement, but there had been a small seed growing in the recesses of his mind that would have eventually blossomed into a choice to cut ties with HYDRA, even if it meant a life on the run or being forced to destroy HYDRA in its entirety to ensure his own survival. 

Without Tony’s influence, he never would have grown to challenge HYDRA’s conditioning. Serving HYDRA’s cause hadn’t made his life intolerable. However, if they had thought removing Tony from the equation would make him fall back in line, they were sorely mistaken. 

HYDRA ought to be thankful the Tesseract had transported him into a different world, because otherwise he would have burned them to the ground after reuniting with Tony. In this world, his counterpart had already finished the job for him – an added bonus to the fact that he had Tony within his grasp once more. 

His resolve had never been harder: not HYDRA, Captain America, nor J.A.R.V.I.S. were going to stand in his way. 

As the Iron Man armor fired at him once more, Steve dodged and leapt, one foot landing on an upturned couch, boosting him up. He spun as he jumped, sending the shield flying, and he saw it hitting the armor on the head as he landed back on the floor, dashing towards the Captain’s abandoned shield. 

The armor was not out of the game yet, but the hit bought him enough time to pick up the identical weapon and use it to block the next two blasts from the repulsors as he rounded the room to locate his own shield once more. He saw it on the floor near the hovering armor and raced to it, the Captain’s shield raised to protect him as he set his foot down with extra force, the tip of his boot landing on the edge of the shield in a practiced move that bounced the shield into the air and into his waiting hand without him missing a beat. 

It was time to end this. 

With the armor right above him, Steve braced himself and jumped up. His left arm, bearing the borrowed shield, arched back and then forward, striking the armor with the edge of the vibranium disc. With the shield digging into the armor, just deep enough to keep him from falling, Steve struck with all his strength and brought his own shield against the nape of the armor’s neck. 

His arms ached from the force of his strikes, but the shield cleaved the armor’s helmet clear off its mechanical shoulders, crashing them both to the floor. With control of the armor momentarily lost, J.A.R.V.I.S. was incapacitated. Steve knew better than to believe the battle was won before its time, however: a headless chicken could still run around, and the armor was functional even though its helmet had been removed. J.A.R.V.I.S. would switch to external cameras – or worse, bring up another armor – so there was no time to waste. 

Steve dug into his pocket, ignoring the throbbing pain in his muscles. He would have time to recover once this was over, and allowing physical pain to interfere with a mission had long since been trained from his body. That had clearly been another advantage over his version inhabiting this world. 

His fingers closed around a small device in his pocket: an EMP generator. It had a short range and no internal power supply, but depending on the external power source used, its range and effectiveness grew exponentially. 

The first time Steve had used it on the Iron Man armor, the end result had been spectacular and fried anything within a five-mile radius. Since then, Tony had devised ways to block it, but he doubted they had anything remotely like it in this world. Even if they did, plugging the EMP into the arc reactor would disable J.A.R.V.I.S. long enough to ensure he made a clean getaway. 

He pulled out the device, pressed on two of its sides to prompt it to open up like a flower, then slammed it smack-dab in the center of the armor’s chest. The petal-like extensions flattened out over the arc reactor and tiny little spikes burrowed down through the reactor’s cover like a half-dozen drills, having detected an energy source. The tiny blinking lights brightened and flashed on and off at an increasing pace, the charge growing. Steve rolled away from the EMP generator, anticipating the wave just before it darkened the room around him, blowing up a couple lamps before a silence grew thick around him, steadily expanding as the building’s functions died. 

Slowly rising to his feet, Steve looked around, checking the dark room. The EMP had no effect on the surrounding blocks, limited to the building they were in. His eyes checked the Manhattan skyline for the first time, searching for differences, but he could find none that were too glaring. 

He would have time for that later; right now, he needed to focus on leaving the premises, and he had limited time to do that. 

As Steve’s eyes fell on Tony Stark’s unconscious form, a sudden wave of anxiousness filled him. He crouched down to blindly retrieve his shield, placing it on the magnetic hold at the back of his uniform while he kept his eyes on the prize. 

“You will see,” Steve mused out loud, walking over to Tony. “You will see, just as he did,” he decided and dropped down on one knee, sliding his arms beneath the other’s body to pick him up. 

As he rose, his eyes moved towards Captain America’s fallen figure. Steve could kill him easily, but taking out a defenseless target usually left a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t be certain at this time that the Captain would even come to oppose him later. 

He chose to leave him and kicked the Captain’s shield over to him as he passed it on his way to the door leading to the stairwell. If they crossed paths again and the Captain insisted on a fight, Steve would finish the job. Until then, his double did not pose an immediate threat. 

Maybe he just didn’t want to kill himself, simple as that, but the Commander had done worse things and he dismissed that as the primary reason for letting the other Steve Rogers keep on breathing. After all, he had gotten what he came for, and that didn’t involve his double in any way. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	7. The Captive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s note:** Non-con warning for this chapter!

****

# Chapter 7: The Captive

  
  


Tony stirred slowly, feeling like he was constantly being pulled under while his consciousness attempted to awaken. Normally, he would have just given up and allowed himself to sink back into the darkness, seeing as rest was often hard to come by, but there was a sense of danger, as if he weren’t safe… 

As he grew slightly more aware, he began to notice how tingly his body felt. Assuming he had fallen asleep in an unnatural position, he tried to shift in order to return circulation to his limbs – only to find it was not possible. 

Tony’s mind bounced into high alert, body jerking to verify whether his initial assumption had been correct. 

It had; he couldn’t move his arms, which were behind him, and while his legs felt free, there was an unnatural lethargy that waking up was yet to banish. In his experience, it was almost like being drugged, and that didn’t particularly help with the general feeling of being in danger. 

“You’re finally awake,” a familiar voice stated. “I was starting to get a little worried.” Its owner was nearby, and Tony relaxed slightly because it belonged to someone he knew and trusted. 

“I feel weird,” he admitted, slowly opening his eyes – then froze. 

Steve Rogers was sitting a short distance in front of him, but it wasn’t Captain America. Tony’s brain ached with the strength of the realization that he might not be safe after all, and he tried yanking his arms up and in front, but they remained firmly behind him. 

The Commander frowned slightly, then sighed. It was as if he were disappointed but simultaneously unsurprised. “I would have preferred not to restrain you,” he said. 

“Then how about you undo my hands and we see where it leads?” Tony offered. The space around them was dim, a bit funny-smelling from what seemed to be rust and lack of fresh air, and it was clear they were no longer at the Tower. 

What had happened after he passed out? Where was the real Steve? 

Not that this Steve was any less real; he just didn’t belong in this world. 

A rueful smile passed over the other’s features. It wasn’t the kind of smile Tony was used to seeing, and he wondered whether it was a side of Steve he was yet to see, or something that was a character trait of this alternative version of the man he had saved the world with. 

“I’ve come this far,” Steve stated. “I’m not about to let you slip through my fingers.” 

“So, what?” Tony challenged. “You’ll never untie me? That’s not how you build a healthy relationship.” He arched his body on the hard floor, testing the bindings as well as the control slowly returning to his legs. He couldn’t identify the material around his wrists; it was tougher than a rope but not as cool and unyielding as metal. Also, his arms were pulled back tightly enough that he could not just pull his arms in front of him over his legs – not without dislocating something, and he would rather try to avoid that. 

“You’re goading me,” the creeper-Steve said – then reached out and touched his fingers to Tony’s face, making him stiffen. “It’s almost endearing,” he added, and Tony inched away from him. There wasn’t much he could do to dislodge the touch, but the Commander got the hint and withdrew his hand – after one last caress across Tony’s face. 

Tony shuddered and gave the other man a dirty look. “I think we need to discuss boundaries. Never knew I had so many; you must be special.” 

The blond cocked his head. “You think we’re about to negotiate?” 

Tony immediately got the impression there would be no negotiating whatsoever. He swallowed and refused to budge – not that he felt all that confident, lying on his side on the floor, hands bound behind his back, his body still feeling tingly and worn out as if he had just finished running a marathon. “Is that how you did it, back home?” he asked, dropping the act for a few seconds. 

“You’re not him,” the Commander replied. When he had figured that out, Tony wasn’t sure, because he sure as hell hadn’t seemed to accept that little factoid back at the Tower. 

“Then why am I here?” Tony asked. 

“Because you’re the only thing I have left.” 

Tony thought he could name a few other things, but they might only be applicable to the Steve Rogers he knew, and not this HYDRA agent. “That’s going to be a really cold comfort,” he stated unrelentingly. “As much as you’d like, you won’t find the things you want here, with me. I can guarantee that.” 

“Can you?” the other asked him, a note of cold ruthlessness entering his voice. Perhaps Tony was doing a bit too well at goading him, and seeing as he was restrained, it was going to be a very unfair fight if the Commander lost his cool. 

“You said it yourself,” Tony said slowly, trying a slightly less hostile approach. “I’m not him. We’re not… I don’t have the same history with Steve Rogers as the Tony Stark in your world. The kind of thing you seem to be looking for… that can’t be forced.” In his opinion, it sounded pretty diplomatic and even understanding towards the Commander’s plight. Could be he had been in shock when he arrived at the Tower, and now that the dust was settling, he could be reasoned with. 

He was Steve Rogers, after all. 

The other man hummed in response. It was impossible to tell whether he agreed with Tony’s words or not, but Tony chose to be optimistic until proven otherwise – and that was possibly why he was so shocked when the Commander’s right hand shot out, fingers curling around the back of his neck with bruising strength as he was pulled forward. The super-soldier had no trouble lifting Tony’s upper body off the floor with just one hand, leaving Tony’s weight painfully divided between his hip and neck. 

Tony hissed as he was pulled forward, and he got another up-close look at the Commander’s face. Even in the weak light, the scarring was prominent, and Tony had a hard time looking away from it when the man spoke: “You would be amazed by the kinds of things that _can_ be forced.” 

It took a second for Tony’s brain to catch up, preoccupied with watching the muscles jump around a pale patch in the flesh of his face that was quite possibly bone. Once he did pay attention to the words and not the mouth producing the words, his eyes snapped up to meet the other’s. 

Clearly the Commander had been waiting for that, because as soon as their eyes locked, he leaned forward and kissed Tony. 

Freezing in shock, Tony blinked rapidly – then tried to pull away from the lips pressing against his. The Commander’s hold on his neck was unyielding, however, and the fingers tightened in warning as Tony tried to roll his entire body away from the assault. 

It wasn’t the first time Tony had been kissed without his consent – far from it – but he had never been quite so defenseless before; the hand holding him still could have just as easily broken his neck, or just about any other bone in his body. He didn’t want to get injured, but neither did he plan on simply submitting. 

Tony sneered in warning, pulling his lips back from his teeth, but when the other man didn’t relent, he inhaled sharply and then opened his mouth to deliver a sharp bite on the Commander’s lower lip. He didn’t think his teeth pierced the skin, but he made sure to make it sting. 

The Commander breathed sharply at the bite and shoved Tony back – so hard and fast that the only thing that stopped his head from slamming into the floor was the super-soldier’s hand shifting from the back of Tony’s neck to the front. If the grip had been painful before, it was nothing compared to the new, suffocating hold as the man leaned over him, part of his weight momentarily resting on Tony’s airway. 

“You’re not so different from him,” the Commander mused as he shifted his body over Tony’s. His right knee cleverly settled between Tony’s thighs as he fought the hand pinning him down, taking advantage of the situation. “He used to make me bleed,” he went on, hand adjusting its hold slightly, allowing Tony to breathe but not giving him room to move. 

“Stop,” Tony managed to grunt past the grip. He tried to make it into a warning, even though his options were very limited at the moment. 

“I made him bleed in return,” Steve’s double mused as if Tony hasn’t spoken – as if he wasn’t feeling him struggle to get free. “I don’t want to hurt you, but it can’t be helped if you keep fighting back,” he added, not sounding overly concerned either way. Like it was all in a day’s work and Tony could choose just how difficult he made things for himself. 

The Commander shifted his knee forward and Tony felt it settle tightly against his pelvic floor. He told himself not to read too much into it –not to assume an outcome just because his mind was starting to conjure it up – but as he felt the Commander’s free hand slipping down and starting to tug open the front of his pants, there was no room left to pretend things weren’t going in the direction he had feared. 

Tony redoubled his efforts. His hands hurt from the unnatural position and having his body rest on top of them, but he angled them to the best of his ability, to find leverage against the floor. He ceased wriggling in order to plant one foot on the floor and raise the other for a kick, distracting the other man from his task and forcing him to block the kick. 

“Stop,” Tony hissed, the pressure of the hand on his throat increasing as the Commander forced his leg down. Tony tried wedging his other knee between them and turning onto his side, but the Commander maintained the upper hand and shoved him back down, simultaneously forcing his legs apart with his knees, further narrowing Tony’s options. 

“You’ll enjoy it,” the Commander promised, Tony’s protests falling on deaf ears. 

Tony tried shaking his head, the lack of air in his lungs starting to impede his actions. He couldn’t fight back – couldn’t stop the Commander’s hand from returning to its previous task – and the inevitability of the situation began to feed his mind in an uncomfortably familiar way that was usually more connected to wormholes in space. The hand finished undoing his pants and shifted, sliding inside. Tony felt the strong digits mapping out his crotch, but in all honesty he was closer to peeing himself in fear than popping a boner. 

Either the Commander noticed that or felt no further need for exploration because he drew back, then sat up completely, his right hand releasing its grip from Tony’s throat for the first time in long minutes. As he straightened, his hands moved across Tony’s hips and then to the thighs spread on either side of his body. Normally, the sensation would have been pleasant, but the only thing Tony was aware of was how much he was shaking. He hadn’t even noticed… 

Their eyes met, and for a while Steve Rogers’ evil double – Tony had no qualms against calling him that, the longer they were together – seemed satisfied simply kneeling there, his hands resting on Tony’s thighs. 

“You’re afraid,” the Commander stated at last. 

Tony offered no comeback; it was pretty obvious, and he wasn’t proud of it. If anyone had asked him a few hours ago, he would have claimed that he’d fight it to the end, tooth and nail, but as he lie there, mind still reeling from shock and expecting the worst, he had to admit that it was a lot harder to fight when faced with the real thing. To this day, only a small number of people had made him feel this uncomfortable in an event related to sex, and none of them had had the absolute upper hand when it came to physically overpowering Tony. Restraints or no, he wasn’t sure he could fight the other man off, and that wasn’t even counting the frozen, panicked state he was in. 

The Commander sighed as if he were disappointed. Maybe he had expected more of a fight, or even enthusiasm. His hands shifted upwards, closer to Tony’s hips, and it made his thighs jerk in dread. 

“Please, don’t,” Tony begged before he could even think it through. He hadn’t wanted to sink this low, to actually grovel, but it seemed to do the trick as the Commander’s hands stopped again, his touch warming the crease of Tony’s thighs through the material of his pants. 

With a huff bordering on annoyance, the super-soldier suddenly rose to his feet and turned away. His steps were heavy as he walked into the darkness surrounding the dimly lit area, and the sharp bang of a door made Tony start. The steps didn’t return, and after a while he decided he was alone. 

Tony lay back on the floor, shivering, his body still tense with dread and throat aching as he drew in shaky breaths of air. Eventually the pain in his arms grew too prominent to ignore and he rolled onto his side, then pulled his legs up towards his chest. His fly was still open, his pants shifting slightly around his waist as he moved, and he closed his eyes and told himself that he was fine. 

It had been a close call, but he couldn’t figure out a way to escape if he continued to freak out. 

As his heart hammered in his chest and his clammy skin cooled down, Tony licked his lips and willed himself to open his eyes. The reality of the situation was that the Commander would come back, sooner or later, and he had to be prepared. 

It was most definitely easier said than done. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	8. The Roster

****

# Chapter 8: The Roster

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


For the past two hours, the destroyed communal area of the Tower had been filling with superheroes as they arrived one after another to hear about the most recent threat. 

Not that there was much to see save for security tapes; the Commander was long gone, as was Tony Stark, and Steve felt like every minute that passed was wasted by waiting for the others to arrive. 

“Relax, Cap,” Sam Wilson called out to him. He had been the first to arrive, for which Steve was glad; Sam, for the most part, seemed to know what to say so as not to get on his nerves. “We’ll all be here soon,” Sam added and fidgeted a bit in his seat. 

“Nervous?” Steve asked, taking his mind off the aching in his body and the concern for what the Commander was planning to do. 

“Nah,” Sam shook his head, but it was obviously a lie. “This wasn’t how I expected to be introduced to the rest of the team, is all,” he mused. 

“That’s how it always seems to go,” Steve mused. Bonding under fire… 

The familiar sound of Iron Man’s thrusters made the windows rattle faintly, and Steve turned to watch as an armor landed on the ramp outside. It was one of Stark’s suits, but not one of his red-and-gold ones: this was War Machine, piloted by Colonel James Rhodes – a friend of Tony’s. 

Steve drew in a lungful of air, telling himself he deserved it if Rhodes decided to blame him for Tony’s kidnapping. 

_“Welcome, Colonel Rhodes,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. greeted as the man entered, still wearing the suit. _“Meet Captain Steve Rogers and Mr. Sam Wilson.”_

The suit opened up at the front, allowing Rhodes to step outside. “A pleasure,” he nodded at them both. “I had wished our meeting would be under better circumstances,” he added to Steve. 

“You’ve been briefed, Colonel?” Steve asked. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. gave me the rundown en route,” Rhodes nodded. “Any luck tracking Tony down?” 

_“Not yet, Colonel,”_ the AI replied before Steve could. 

“Keep trying,” Rhodes ordered. “He’ll let us know where he is – usually by blowing something up,” he added, clearly trying for a joke but falling a little short. Steve got the feeling there was a story behind the comment. 

“How far away are the others?” Steve asked, his impatience growing again. 

_“The Quinjet is beginning its final approach as we speak,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. 

“That was fast,” Sam commented. 

_“Agents Barton and Romanoff picked up the rest of the team. Also, the new Quinjet designed for the Avengers is much faster than the models you might be familiar with from S.H.I.E.L.D.”_

“Stark made you your own Quinjet?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Steve. 

“Apparently he’s been doing a lot of things,” Steve mused, taking a look at his shield where it was lying on the bar which was still surrounded by broken glass and spilled alcohol. No one had attempted to come up to clean up the mess, and Steve guessed it was better that way, to preserve the scene of the fight. 

Of course that meant the small stains of blood were there, too, as visible reminders of Steve’s defeat. 

Steve had cleaned himself up a bit while waiting for backup. He still looked like he had been in a fight for his life, no doubt about it, and he knew it would help him convey the seriousness of the situation to his fellow Avengers. Not that he thought he needed all hands on deck for this, but when he called out to the others with J.A.R.V.I.S.’s help, everyone had responded almost simultaneously. 

Once they located the Commander, the man would regret ever crossing into their world. 

As promised, a Quinjet bearing the ‘A’-shaped insignia of the Avengers soon touched down on the landing pad. Steve watched it dock into place, its engines shutting down and wings folding to accommodate it into the hangar on the floor below as the docking system pulled it inside. 

“Have you met the others before?” Sam asked Rhodes. 

“Only Banner and Romanoff,” the Colonel replied. 

“But you’re also friends with Stark, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

If there was something else Sam wanted to ask, he was interrupted when the other Avengers came up the stairs from the hangar. Thor wasn’t wearing his usual gear, dressed as he was in civilian clothes, but he was carrying his hammer; Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were in some kind of uniform, but they had been redesigned since the last time Steve saw either of them; Bruce was wearing civilian clothes as well, looking like he had planned on being outdoors. 

“I think there was something wrong with your message,” Clint called out. “It said Stark’s been taken – by you.” 

“Not a mistake,” Steve told him. 

Thor frowned. “I do not understand,” he admitted. 

_“A Tesseract-related anomaly brought another Steve Rogers into our world,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. supplied. _“He proved to be incredibly hostile.”_

“Tesseract?” Bruce frowned. 

“It’s in the lab,” Steve pointed. “Tony sealed it away before…” He made a vague gesture at the room around them, which of course did only so much to explain the situation. 

_“I have some data from the fight, mostly captured by Mark 43,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. offered. _“Most of the Tower systems went offline or stopped transmitting normally after the Tesseract appeared. Also, the EMP launched by the attacker caused some issues.”_

“Show us,” Rhodes ordered, stepping over to a computer Steve and Sam had set up while they waited. 

Everyone else gathered in front of it, too, and the screen flickered to life. Steve could see Tony’s AI selecting files in real time, faster than human fingers could work. 

The video began when Tony still had his back to the suit of armor. There was an audible gasp from the crowd when they saw the Commander for the first time. 

“Okay, that’s creepy,” Clint stated. 

“Another you,” Bruce murmured, leaning forward. 

On the screen, Tony shifted his hand – a tiny gesture Steve hadn’t paid attention to, but clearly the armor picked it up. 

_“I fought you longer than I fucked you,”_ the Commander said. _“I know your tricks and toys.”_

“What?” Rhodes blinked. “Did he just –?” 

“Yes,” Steve confirmed. 

In a matter of seconds the fight broke out, the Commander incapacitating Tony and then turning his attention to Steve. Looking at the fight from another perspective, Steve could see just how evenly matched they were – and where he had started losing, finally. The Commander may have had a point: Steve lost because he wasn’t determined enough to push harder. For him, it hadn’t been personal… 

There was a collective groan from the others when he got elbowed in the groin – followed by audible hisses as the Commander kicked him in the face. 

“Damn,” Sam murmured, “remind me never to piss you off.” 

“That man isn’t me,” Steve said with determination. 

The fight shifted to a more limited, hectic perspective as the armor fought the assailant. Steve hadn’t seen this part, lying unconscious on the floor, and he watched with interest as the Commander actually had to work up a sweat before he finally managed to best the armor and the feed was cut off. 

“What do we know of this guy?” Natasha asked. 

“Other than that he is just as formidable an opponent as our Captain,” Thor mused. 

“He called himself ‘Commander’, not Captain,” Steve told them. “Apparently, he woke up in 1985 – and was recruited by HYDRA at some point.” 

“Well, that explains some of it,” Sam grimaced. 

“Could be it was HYDRA who pulled him from the ice,” Natasha noted. “From what we know of their activity within S.H.I.E.L.D., it is possible he was subjected to similar brainwashing as the Winter Soldier.” 

“Who?” Rhodes frowned. 

“Another time,” Steve promised. “What we need to focus on is finding him before he hurts anyone else.” 

“Are we certain he took Stark?” Thor asked. 

“Did you miss the parts where he explicitly stated the two of them were an item?” Clint reminded. 

“He said that in his world, Tony was killed,” Steve said. “While it may be that he won’t hurt Stark, we need to find them as soon as possible.” 

“Can you track him?” Rhodes asked out loud, seemingly talking to none of the Avengers. 

_“I am attempting to do so, Colonel,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied before anyone else could phrase an answer. _“So far there has been no luck, but I am broadening my search methods to track down their movements.”_

“Let us know when you’ve got something,” Rhodes ordered. 

_“Of course.”_

“Perhaps in the meantime, we shall get to know our new allies,” Thor suggested. 

Natasha took over introductions, surprisingly enough. Steve was glad, however, because he was busy staring at the last frozen image of the Commander smashing down the edge of the shield to incapacitate the armor. He knew it didn’t look good, getting beat up by the other one, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying again. 

No matter how motivated the Commander said he was, there was no way Steve was going to let him run rampant in his world. All the bullies in Brooklyn hadn’t managed to beat it out of him back in the day, and he wasn’t about to start bowing out of a fight now. 

Besides, if something happened to Tony, it would be on his conscience. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	9. The Talk

****

# Chapter 9: The Talk

  
  


When the Commander returned, it had been over an hour. Tony had spent the time making his way around his prison – which he had deduced was most likely a large shipping container illuminated by a battery-operated lamp in a corner. He hadn’t found anything to use as a tool or a weapon, and with his hands still tied behind his back, his range of motion was painfully limited. 

It didn’t deter him from trying, naturally. A shipping container was filled with opportunities compared to a cave, and it would eventually provide him with _something_ he could use. 

He didn’t hear heavy footsteps or other sounds of foreboding before the door of his prison was opened and the familiar frame of Steve Rogers entered before closing the door firmly. Tony heard a lock latch into place, and he wished he had his hands free to make a more thorough inspection of whatever prohibited him from simply walking out. 

Other than the Commander, of course; as it were, the lock was a minor hindrance compared to the super-soldier. 

The Commander looked him over, and Tony didn’t even try to pretend he hadn’t just been over every inch of his prison. He stared the bigger man down, either willing him to look away or say something, not budging from where he stood near the back wall. 

“This is not going as I was hoping it would,” the Commander finally stated. 

“I can imagine,” Tony replied dryly. “How about we wrap up this little misunderstanding and you let me go?” It was worth a shot, especially when he could see the other man was beginning to realize that the replacement he had sought out was nothing like his Tony Stark. 

The Commander shook his head. “I can’t do that.” 

“Sure you can,” Tony insisted. “Just untie me and let me walk out.” 

“I can untie you, but I can’t let you leave.” 

Tony pursed his lips in annoyance. “Negotiation doesn’t seem to be your style in any universe.” 

“This isn’t a negotiation,” the Commander stated and stepped forward. Tony tensed and backed away, but he didn’t have far to go before he hit the back wall of the container. 

“Is this really the kind of relationship you’re looking for?” Tony snapped once he was quite effectively, not to mention literally, backed into a corner, the Commander looming in front of him. 

“You’ll adjust to the idea, in time,” the other replied. 

“Having someone force themselves on me? I don’t think so!” 

Even in the poor light, it was easy to see the scarred face darkening. Tony spied the super-soldier’s fists tightening, fingers curled, and he wondered whether he was going to be punched sometime soon. Instead, the Commander let out a sharp breath and took a step back. “I could force you,” he said, but with a little less confidence. “It’s not what I’d prefer.” 

“Maybe we can work around that,” Tony offered. As long as they were just talking, nothing else was happening, and he needed to change the situation more into his favor somehow. 

The Commander nodded, which was a bit of a surprise – then gestured towards Tony. When he didn’t move, he gestured again. “You wanted me to untie your hands, right?” he prompted, and slowly Tony turned his back to him, tensing as he felt the Commander’s hands on his wrists, but as promised the bindings loosened and then unwound from around his hands. 

After he was free, the other made no move to secure him otherwise, and Tony turned to face him, carefully rubbing his wrists. “Now what?” he asked, untrusting of his newfound freedom and that it would last. 

The Commander hid whatever he had used to restrain Tony in one of his many pockets, looking uncharacteristically uncertain for a few seconds. It almost reminded Tony of his Steve – the patriotic, HYDRA-busting one. The brief glimpse reminded him that the two were the same, originally – until something derailed the Commander from his righteous path. 

“Perhaps we should… get to know each other,” the Commander suggested. 

“You want to talk – or the other thing?” Tony asked, to make sure. “Because if you’re thinking of the latter, I gotta say, your attention span is really short.” 

“Talk,” the Commander snapped. 

“Okay,” Tony agreed before the other could change his mind. “I have questions – like what happened at the Tower after you knocked me out?” 

“You’re concerned for the other one,” the Commander guessed. 

“Don’t read too much into it,” Tony retorted. “If it were any one of the team, I would ask the same question.” Tony could guess how the fight had ended, seeing as he was here, even though he wasn’t sure how that was possible: even with him out cold, Steve Rogers was a formidable opponent, not to mention J.A.R.V.I.S. in control of one of his suits. That Tony had still been taken didn’t bode well. 

“I didn’t kill him,” the Commander said, as if reading his mind. “I could have,” he added, “but I didn’t. He and I are the same, after all.” 

Tony suppressed a snort. “Aside from your chiseled cheekbones, I don’t think so.” 

“I told you about my past,” the Commander insisted. “Up until crashing the plane…” 

“Maybe it’s the stuff that happened after that defines you – not the choices you made to get there.” Still… “How exactly did America’s golden savior end up as HYDRA’s errand boy?” Tony knew he needed to cut back on snide commentary in the interest of keeping himself alive and unharmed, but this man did get under his skin just like the regular, non-HYDRA Steve Rogers. 

“Wipes,” the Commander replied. 

Tony raised an eyebrow, trying to guess what that meant. 

“A HYDRA practice for memory erasure and brainwashing,” the other explained. “In the beginning – after they revived me from the ice – I resisted. I don’t remember much of that time, but in the end, they took it all from me. The man I used to be, the ideals I lived to uphold.” A rueful smile that was more like a grimace twisted his face, and the weak light wasn’t doing his scarred appearance any favors. 

“But you do remember things,” Tony commented. 

“For decades, I didn’t. I was HYDRA’s perfect soldier, driven to do my duty and serve their cause, and whenever the doubts began to rise, they put me back in the chair.” The Commander looked at him intently, all of a sudden – as if Tony’s face was something he was happy to fixate on for the rest of his life. “Then I met you: cocky and brilliant, ready to die for your cause – but fighting tooth and nail not to. You spent hours taunting me, throwing my past in my face even when I didn’t remember it.” 

“That… sounds like something I would do,” Tony admitted. 

“Bit by bit, I started remembering – and I hid it,” the Commander said. “The fragments that started coming back to me were confusing, but as long as I didn’t alert my handlers, they didn’t do a full wipe to erase it all. The memories started mounting up, and you kept throwing gasoline on the fire to keep it burning.” 

That also sounded like something Tony would do. “Did you turn on HYDRA?” he asked. “You mentioned not following their rules anymore.” 

“I was considering it, but you don’t just walk away from HYDRA,” the Commander reminisced. “If I made even one mistake, they would have wiped the slate clean and started again – and there were too many new memories that I couldn’t afford to lose.” His hand twitched towards Tony, but stopped before it could start reaching. “Memories of you,” he concluded, voice a bit strained. 

“I’m not him,” Tony reminded him again. “Just like you’re not the Steve that I know.” 

“What about Bucky?” the Commander asked. “Did he become the Winter Soldier?” 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Also, if they used the same practices here, that would explain why Steve had such a hard time connecting with him – and why he thinks there might be hope after all; Barnes could start remembering, given enough time.” 

The Commander nodded slowly. “Have you met him?” 

“No,” Tony shook his head. “Saw some footage, though. The arm seems pretty cool for being a HYDRA concoction.” 

“The Fist of HYDRA,” the Commander muttered. 

“Jealous?” Tony asked. 

“He killed you,” the Commander snapped. 

Tony had almost forgotten that part of his tale. “So you were still friends, even after HYDRA messed with your heads?” 

“We worked together, and the little bits and pieces we got back… At some point the engineers stopped trying to meddle with it, seeing as we recognized each other, over and over.” 

“And then he killed me? That seems like an odd thing to do for someone who’s supposed to be your BFF.” 

“He never recalled the man he was – not the way I did,” the Commander explained. “They had him since he fell in 1944.” 

“Damn,” Tony murmured. “So, you just left him there while hitching a ride on the Tesseract?” 

The Commander didn’t say anything for a while, so Tony began to guess there were some regrets concerning that. When the other man spoke again, the venom in his words took him by surprise, especially knowing to whom the Commander was referring: “The next time I cross paths with Bucky Barnes, I’m going to destroy him for killing the man I loved.” 

Tony supposed he might have felt flattered by the dark passion in his words if he weren’t blatantly creeped out by it. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	10. The Search

****

# Chapter 10: The Search

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


As the hours passed and there seemed to be no new developments in their search for the Commander and Tony Stark, Steve began to think they would accomplish more by simply walking the streets of Manhattan, looking for clues. 

“Look, I don’t want to be the guy who doesn’t get it, but… is someone actually working on finding them – aside from Natasha?” Sam asked loudly just as Steve was entertaining the idea of heading out for the third time. 

Natasha glanced up from the computer where she had been working, no doubt contacting people who might be able to help them. Aside from her, the rest of them had been reviewing the footage from before, trying to spot something that they’d missed the first time. 

Something akin to the sound of a throat being cleared came from the hidden speakers. _“In the last half an hour I have narrowed down our options and ruled out various methods of the Commander’s transport,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. the AI stated. For a program, it sounded a lot like J.A.R.V.I.S. had just taken offense at the implication that none of them was tracking down his creator. 

In the short time they had known each other, Steve had learned it was preferred to call J.A.R.V.I.S. ‘he’ rather than ‘it’. Considering how life-like the AI was, it didn’t seem odd or awkward, and if that’s how Tony approached the subject… 

“You have some idea of how he left the Tower?” James Rhodes jumped at the news. 

_“Indeed. There is no indication the Commander left either on foot or by vehicular transport. I have gone through camera coverage on the streets, in the Tower and in the parking area beneath it, and it is highly unlikely he managed to slip past all the cameras undetected.”_

“Is he still within the Tower?” Clint asked, shooting to his feet from where he had been lounging on a couch that had been set back on its feet and cleared of most of the debris. 

_“No,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. _“I believe the Commander managed to enter the subway line beneath the Tower. There is no security coverage in the old, closed-down tunnels, and it seems a logical way to make his escape.”_

“While carrying an unconscious man?” Rhodes challenged the theory. 

“Someone of Tony’s size and build wouldn’t be a problem – unconscious or awake,” Steve informed them. He was aware of the looks he was getting, but instead stared at one of the operational screens that J.A.R.V.I.S. was using to track his progress. For the most part, he didn’t understand the symbols and markings that kept appearing, but he trusted someone like Bruce to be able to decipher it. “How do we proceed?” Steve asked. “We can send teams down there to search for signs, to get a direction. He can’t stay in the subway system forever.” 

“Why not?” Bruce frowned. 

“He appeared here, out of thin air. He doesn’t have provisions for either of them,” Steve listed. “Either they both have to leave the tunnels, or he’ll find a secure place to keep Stark until he has more options.” 

“But there’s no knowing where he’ll pop up,” Rhodes grumbled. “J.A.R.V.I.S., put together a map of the subway tunnels that are not in use. Highlight connections to the operating lines and stations, exits, possible connections to the sewer system…” 

_“Processing data,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. _“It will take a moment.”_

“He can’t just appear at street-level with Tony Stark without someone noticing,” Natasha surmised. “Someone would notice – and take a picture. I assume you’re scanning for any pictures, video or messages concerning both Tony and Captain America, J.A.R.V.I.S.?” 

_“Indeed. I have also attempted to ping the remote locator micro implants within Mr. Stark’s body, but there has been no response.”_

“Micro implants?” Sam repeated. “He has tracking devices in his body?” 

“Well, he was once kidnapped by terrorists,” Clint shrugged. 

“They’re not used for that,” Bruce corrected, “although I’m sure in this situation it makes little difference.” He stepped around the screen, fingers playing with his glasses. “Can you guess as to why you aren’t able to locate the implants?” 

_“I wish I knew, Doctor,”_ the AI replied, sounding almost concerned. _“I shall keep trying, however.”_

“Maybe he’s being held underground, or in some kind of a bunker?” Clint guessed. 

_“These micro implants were designed by Mr. Stark. An ordinary shielding would not be enough to dampen their signal,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. retorted a bit stiffly. 

“So they’re being disrupted, or have malfunctioned,” Bruce said. 

“He did incapacitate Tony with that weird little disc of his,” Rhodes recounted. “Perhaps that could have shorted out the implants.” 

_“It is possible. Regrettably, my information on that is limited, seeing as the interference from the Tesseract affected many of the readings during the battle.”_

“How long is the range on those things?” Natasha asked. “By now, if he were to move fast, the Commander could have found a transport out of the city.” 

_“Unless he’s managed to take Mr. Stark off the planet, range is not an issue,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. told them. 

“Really?” Clint asked, disbelieving. 

_“Really,”_ was all the AI said in return. 

“We’ll find him,” Bruce murmured, not looking at any of his fellow Avengers so he must have been talking to J.A.R.V.I.S. “Just keep looking. Something will pop up. Tony’s resourceful, especially under pressure. He’ll let us know where he is.” 

Steve hoped he was right. He knew better than to underestimate Tony Stark, but knowing who had taken him… If the Commander was familiar with Tony Stark from his world, as well as his tech and tricks, it posed a problem none of them was probably willing to think about. Steve tried to imagine what he would do if he were in the similar situation as the Commander, but he kept coming to the conclusion that where it mattered, the two of them were not the same man, and he could not blindly rely on his own instincts to get them through this. 

If he tried, it might cost Tony his life. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	11. The Sleep

****

# Chapter 11: The Sleep

  
  


Tony Stark had slept in many a place in his life, from luxury suites to a dumpster in an alley. In his defense, the dumpster had been a perfect way to escape the pouring rain that had been coming down that night, but maybe if he hadn’t been that drunk, he would have just called a cab to take him home – or to the nearest luxury suite available. 

He had also shared a bed – his own or someone else’s – with dozens of people, and a large handful of those experiences were not something he wished ever to repeat. Not because they had been painful or nonconsensual, but because Tony had gotten around in his past and most of those encounters were easily categorized under ‘gave it a shot, moving on’. He had walked through life one single-use encounter at a time, some of them more memorable than the rest, but most of them falling short of expectations and losing their charm before the night was even over. 

In hindsight, though, even the most uncomfortable one of those nights was nothing in comparison to when Tony had to lie beside the Commander on the floor of the shipping container, one of the super-soldier’s arms wrapped around him. It was just as effective as if he had been tied down, because the other was a light sleeper and stirred at Tony’s every little move. 

It was infuriating, lying on the floor, untied and his freedom just a few feet away, yet he knew he would never make it to the door. 

Tony chose to view it more as a challenge, to keep his spirits up, refusing to give up. 

Unable to rest in his current predicament, he spent the hours subtly straining his muscles, shifting his arms bit by bit into a pose that should have sufficed to trigger the remote call for his armor. One of them had to be functioning, but seeing as he had no idea where he was, there was no telling how long it would take before one of them got to him. 

If the suits even received his signal: he didn’t put it past the Commander to find some way to cut the signal, especially if he knew of the tiny implants beneath Tony’s skin. He had known about Extremis, after all. It didn’t stop him from trying, even though his spirits were lowered somewhat as hours went by and nothing happened save for his muscles complaining from the unnatural tension. 

“Get some sleep,” the Commander murmured from behind him, either knowing what he was doing or simply noting that he was awake. 

“The accommodations are falling a little short of my expectations,” Tony replied dryly. “Couldn’t even find a mattress?” 

“Didn’t have the time,” the Commander replied. 

Tony decided that if he didn’t have time for that, then there had been no time to select a location that would block the signal, and the armor had to be on its way. It was just going to take a while. 

“You did okay in the cave, didn’t you?” the Commander mused after a while. “This is warm compared to that.” 

Tony stiffened for a different reason. “You know about that?” 

“I figured you had to have a reason for building the suits, and why else would you have Extremis?” He paused. “You are so much like him. More than I resemble the Steve Rogers from your world.” 

“You have no idea who I am,” Tony replied – and would keep repeating it until the Commander accepted it as truth. 

“I’ll figure it out,” was all the other man said. “Sleep,” he ordered then. 

Tony let out a rebellious breath of air and adjusted his arms again, muscles protesting. Escaping was more important than minor discomfort, though, 

The Commander’s arm moved, rising from Tony’s waist and halting when it reached his outstretched arms, landing on top of them and forcing them down onto the floor. “I’ll find us something more accommodating than this,” he promised, oddly enough. 

“I could have had that at my home,” Tony retorted, trying to relax in order not to raise suspicion. “Why did you take me, anyway?” he asked, seeing as he might as well fish for information. 

“I couldn’t afford to lose you, and our initial encounter wasn’t exactly promising.” 

“You could have left out the part about being HYDRA,” Tony suggested. If not for that, they may have not questioned his motives half as much. 

The Commander chuckled, and Tony could feel a breath of warm air against the back of his neck. “I know you don’t like being lied to,” the man said. “Didn’t seem like the thing to do.” 

Tony wasn’t sure whether or not to be thankful for his captor’s consideration. “What now?” he asked. “What’s your big plan? Hide me in this box forever?” 

Silence met his words. 

“That won’t fly with me,” Tony informed the Commander. “In case that wasn’t clear from before.” 

“I know,” the other replied. His hand shifted on top of Tony’s, and he stiffened again when the Commander’s fingers fanned out, attempting to intertwine his digits with Tony’s. When Tony didn’t accommodate him, the other sighed, but kept his fingers as they were – just in case Tony would relent. “I’m not trying to make you miserable, or hurt you. If you would just… cooperate…” 

“To being kidnapped?” Tony snapped and twisted around and out from under the other’s arm. 

For a moment he feared the Commander would grab him and force him down, but he was allowed to sit up and glare down at Steve Roger’s evil twin. In the almost nonexistent light, he could barely see an outline of his figure, but he could sense his presence just fine, so close he could almost feel him. 

“Just let me go and you’ll find me in a more amicable mood,” Tony demanded. 

In the dark, he could hear the Commander move – and then felt his touch on his neck. The fingers that had previously tried to hold his hand wrapped around his throat, much like earlier, but the pressure was almost nonexistent. Tony knew a warning when he was given one, though, and sat still as he felt the other sit up as well and lean closer to him. He wondered if perhaps super-soldiers could see in the dark. 

“You’re the only thing I have left, in either world,” the Commander snapped. His voice was so much like Captain America’s, although not really. Tony was starting to be able to tell them apart by tiny little nuances. This Steve Rogers had seen and experienced horrors Tony’s version of the man was yet to encounter – or had been blessedly spared, having not been found by HYDRA at an earlier date. “If I let you go now, I know what the odds are,” he went on, fingers squeezing a tad tighter for a moment, as if he wanted to secure Tony to his person, somehow. “I can’t lose you, so I won’t. While I don’t want you to be miserable… it makes no difference whether you’re amicable or not.” 

“It does,” Tony insisted, trying to keep his voice from wavering. “Maybe you’re telling yourself it doesn’t, but if you’re anything like the Steve Rogers I know… You’ll want to do the right thing.” 

The fingers tightened again, fractionally, and Tony suddenly felt the other’s breath ghost against his face. “The right thing…” the Commander growled – then pressed his cheek against Tony’s, rubbing them together. Tony could feel the deep scarring, alien and disconcerting. “That is something HYDRA took from me a long time ago.” 

“Don’t you want it back?” Tony asked. 

“Why?” the Commander asked, voice rough. He pressed in close, lips brushing the shell of Tony’s ear. “It’s liberating, not to be bound by so many moral obligations. If I wanted to do the right thing, I would have put a bullet in my brain a long time ago. I would have left HYDRA for you, and burned it all to the ground. I would have never assumed I could have _you_ , when I realized I was in a different world entirely. If I were a better man, I would be alone and miserable, wasting away in some cell while you decided what to do with me. I could never have this…” he almost crooned, fingers tightening again, and his tongue licked his lips, briefly touching Tony’s ear as well. It was impossible to tell whether it was on purpose or not. 

In the next second the man shifted, facing Tony again, their noses brushing one another in the dark. Tony thought he could see a glint of eyes in front of him, but it may have been just his imagination. 

“I stole the Tesseract to get you back. I was delivered to you, and I’m not about to let that gift go to waste,” he declared, voice dark. “It’s up to you whether you choose to adjust to the change or keep fighting me.” 

Tony swallowed and said nothing. The suit might be on the way, and if not, the others would come for him. In the meanwhile, he would devise his own escape, because he wasn’t going to play the victim for any longer than he had to. 

He had gotten away from the Ten Rings, and he would get away from the Commander, too, when given the opportunity – an opportunity which he might have to craft with his own hands, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t done that before. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	12. The Chip

****

# Chapter 12: The Chip

  
  


Come morning, Tony was aching from lying on the hard floor and from all the nervous tension. He was also cranky from lack of sleep, coffee, and food – and he needed to go to the bathroom. 

At least the Commander was an early riser just like Cap, having gotten up some time earlier as if he ached to go for a run or something. Instead he had settled down on the opposite side of the small space, for the most part just watching Tony in a manner that soon grew uncomfortable. 

“I feel gross,” Tony complained, knowing he had next to no leverage but that wasn’t going to stop him from pushing. “I need a shower, a shave, and a bathroom break.” He raised his hand to interrupt the Commander’s reply. “I’ll refuse to do my business in a ditch, in the bushes, or in a bucket in the corner,” he added. 

Tony had no leverage, but the Commander wanted to win him over – even when he said it didn’t matter. It was a small request, all in all, and Tony wanted to think that the silence following his demand meant the other was at least considering it. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” finally came a reply, and the Commander rose to his feet and crossed the distance to where Tony was seated against a wall. He reached to his belt and retrieved the length of rope-like material he had used to bind Tony’s hands before. 

“Really?” Tony arched an eyebrow at him. 

“Can’t have you breaking out while I’m gone,” the Commander replied and motioned for Tony to turn around. 

His aching bladder made up his mind for him, and Tony turned his back to the super-soldier, even going as far as pushing his hands back before they could be grabbed in order to be secured. 

The Commander wasn’t taking any chances, binding Tony’s hands tight enough to almost prompt a protest, but it wasn’t as if his captor was wrong: if Tony saw an opening, he would take it, full bladder or no. 

Satisfied with his work, the Commander stepped back and walked out the door without another word. Tony blinked at the sudden appearance and equally speedy disappearance of bright light, standing still and listening to the door being locked behind the other, then slowly turned to look the way he had gone. The lamp’s light didn’t quite reach the door or its locking mechanism, but that hadn’t stopped Tony from investigating it before, nor did it now. His tied hands were of no use, however, and he was very much a hands-on kind of person. 

With an annoyed huff, he went to search for something to help undo his hands, but unsurprisingly nothing like that had been left lying around. Improvising a kidnapping seemed to be right up the Commander’s alley, and Tony pondered whether that was something his Steve Rogers shared with the guy. It wasn’t something he would have thought to ask, but he supposed tactical thinking could be utilized in many ways… 

Unable to find a tool to free his hands and prompting his shoulders to ache even more as he tested the limits of his bindings, Tony remained trapped. Biding his time was something he hadn’t been particularly good at since Afghanistan; he absolutely refused to play by anyone else’s rules if they even slightly contradicted his own, and even then he would say they were _his_ rules. 

As it was, his options were once again uncomfortably limited, and he could almost feel phantom boundaries chafing against him, forcing him into a place he didn’t like. 

Well, it wouldn’t have been much of a kidnapping if he wanted to be there… 

He knew that was what the Commander wanted, though: for Tony to believe him and give in to the great love story that was supposedly in the cards for them. Tony was afraid to call his bluff because by now he was fairly convinced there was no deception; the honesty he had learned to expect from Captain America seemed to fit oddly well on the Commander’s twisted features as well. 

Either that or he was being played for a fool. 

Considering the things he had learned since first coming face to face with the Commander, it didn’t feel like he was being tricked. While there was a certain amount of emotional manipulation involved, it hadn’t sunk in yet. Tony didn’t think he was the perfect candidate for Stockholm Syndrome, nor was he planning on testing that theory. The moment he had an opportunity to run, call for help, or attack the Commander with some predictable success, he would take it. 

Until then, he was stuck in this situation, and it might be best not to give his captor too much grief in order to be able to negotiate things like access to an actual bathroom. 

Still, he had to be careful not to be too cooperative, because obviously the Commander was under the impression that demanding sexual favors from him was totally acceptable, and if Tony didn’t give them willingly… He had no desire to repeat the incident from the previous day, and just because the Commander had backed off one time didn’t mean he was actually feeling contrite – and wouldn’t push it the next time. Or the time after that. 

Tony prayed there would be no ‘next time’. The mere idea made his skin crawl. No, he wasn’t afraid of the act itself – nothing to it that he hadn’t done before, one way or another – but being an unwilling participant gave it a very distinct flavor that he didn’t care for. Who in their right mind would? Even rape fantasies worked only as long as the ‘fantasy’ element was included. 

So, he had to keep that from happening, and the longer he stayed within this shipping-container-turned-prison, the likelier it was he’d end up in that very same position and there was no guarantee his protests and pleas were going to be heard. Hell, he wasn’t sure what had stopped the Commander the first time, and the odds of that happening again were slim to none. 

Deciding that obsessing about it before it happened was only going to make him feel like throwing up, he concentrated on taking one step at a time towards the goal of freeing himself. He had to figure out why his armors weren’t responding to his commands, and simultaneously keep looking for a way to make his position known so that the others could locate him. 

‘Others’ meaning J.A.R.V.I.S., first and foremost, although he was sure that if Steve had indeed survived his confrontation with the Commander, he was in hot pursuit. Most likely they already had a trail to follow, but it wouldn’t hurt if Tony managed to help on his end. 

The sooner he got away from the Commander, the better. 

He was so caught up in his musings that the opening of the container’s door actually made him jump and back away. The light from the outside was painful as he stared at it, and for the first few seconds it was hard to see whether the outline he was seeing was the Commander or Captain America. The likelihood of the latter was distinctly smaller, though, and the moment the man stepped forward, his brain told him to back away some more and prepare himself for anything. 

“You wanted a proper bathroom, yes?” the Commander asked sharply. It was clear he didn’t like this. Still, he gestured at Tony to approach him, and with the cautiousness of the suspicious person that he was, Tony slowly stepped forward. The Commander reached behind him and did something to release his bound hands. “You try to run or trick me, we’ll start doing things my way,” he stated, and then took Tony by the throat, right beneath his jaw, forcing him to look up at him. It certainly felt like there was already a layer of bruises there. “You don’t want to piss me off,” the Commander growled, just in case Tony needed to be told that. 

He had a fairly good idea this version of Steve Rogers wasn’t to be messed with – not that he thought the other one was either, but the Steve he knew lacked the certain darkness this one wore on his sleeve for all the world to see. 

“Understood?” the Commander asked, eyes boring down into Tony’s. 

“Yeah,” he tried to say, but talking was near impossible with the supersoldier’s fingers squeezing his throat. 

Accepting the weak response, the Commander let him go and took his upper arm in a tight grip instead, pulling Tony towards the door. 

_Freedom!_ his brain screamed, swiftly followed by _too bright!_ as they stepped outside and his eyes burned with the rapid change in lighting. 

It was daytime, and once he could actually see something, he noted they were at some kind of a dump, surrounded by a few dented shipping containers, stripped cars and all manner of used and broken down electrical equipment that was just lying around the unused plot of land. As far as Tony could see, they weren’t in the city anymore, but he could make out larger, tall buildings in the distance. Not too far from home, then. 

Slowly, he flexed his arms, perfectly hiding it under the pretense of stretching his limbs after having them tied again. He kept hoping to see a streak of red and gold in the sky, responding to the remote call, but it hadn’t worked last night and he was yet to determine why that was. A simple crate couldn’t block the signal, so it had to be something else. 

They crossed the salvage yard and exited out onto a shabby little side street lined with buildings in equally poor condition. The neighborhood appeared fairly dead because there was not a single car or person passing them by. Seeing as the Commander was carrying his shield and wearing a uniform, someone would have surely taken notice of that – if nothing else than to snap a picture and tweet it, which was the kind of thing people did these days. 

A picture on the Net would be enough to clue J.A.R.V.I.S. in to his location, though, and Tony tried to will _someone_ to drive by. 

They came to the end of the street and turned a corner, coming across a motel. It was definitely one of those seedy pay-by-the-hour, no-questions-asked kind of places, but it looked like it was open for business which surprised Tony a little; he had fully expected the Commander to take them to the nearest uninhabited building which had a bathroom, but this was a lot better. 

Tony tried not to show his excitement as they entered, counting on someone to recognize his mug and tweet about it, at the very least. 

The clerk looked up at them, clearly not expecting customers at this hour – then did a double-take at the Commander for obvious reasons. 

“I need a room,” the Commander stated. 

“Uh, sure,” the man said, and his eyes flew to Tony. 

Tony stared the man down, trying to tell him not to react to his presence – it might get him killed – but at the same time praying he would do something about it once they had left the front desk. 

“One room?” the clerk asked. 

“Yes,” the Commander said. “An hour should be enough.” 

“Okay…” 

Definitely a seedy motel, Tony decided; the man’s obvious hesitation wasn’t directed to the amount of time as much as who was asking for it, even though the Commander’s striking resemblance to Captain America was somewhat hampered by the scarring on his face. 

To Tony’s surprise, the Commander dug a wad of bills from his pocket. They looked like American dollars, and the clerk accepted them, giving the Commander a key in return. He didn’t even get to say the room number out loud before the Commander was already moving out the door, dragging Tony by the arm and following the numbered doors until he found the one matching the number on their key. 

Opening the door, the Commander pushed Tony inside first, following suit and firmly closing the door behind them. “You have an hour,” he said, just in case Tony hadn’t realized that. 

Accepting that, Tony checked the tiny room. A single bed dominated the space with its faded cover; wallpaper was peeling off the walls, revealing more layers of equally hideous papering beneath it; only the barest of essentials were pushed to the corners of the room. There was a TV, though, and a brochure on top of it listing some pay-per-view videos for inspiration if necessary. 

Tony headed for the only other door in the room and found a bathroom behind it, with a cramped shower stall and a tiny sink with a crack in the porcelain. The toilet looked like a habitat for some of the fungi experiments Tony had seen Bruce do in his lab, but it was all infinitely better than a bucket in a corner of an enclosed space with no running water. 

Hell, there was even a complimentary single-use shaving kit available, and Tony went back to grab one of the towels he had seen folded on top of the bed. 

The Commander was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest and not looking all too happy about being forced to do this. No doubt he was going to keep standing there, guarding the door and making sure Tony didn’t make a run for it. The bathroom had no window, so there was no way Tony was getting out that way – not unless he found something to blow a hole in the wall, and even MacGyver couldn’t manage that with only soap and shaving cream. 

“Can I close the door?” Tony asked as he was stepping back into the bathroom. “Unless you think I can somehow escape through the pipes,” he added sarcastically despite knowing it wasn’t the best of ideas. 

The Commander glared at him – damn if that didn’t look like the evil eye he was used to getting from his Steve – but eventually gave a grudging nod. 

Not wanting to give the man time to take it back, Tony closed the door behind him and stripped, did his business at the toilet, then hopped into the shower without stopping to look at all the dirty corners and the things living there. The pipes groaned a bit and it took a while to actually get hot water flowing, but once he achieved that, Tony didn’t waste any time. Who knew when he would get a chance to wash himself again? 

After washing his body and hair, he dried off and stepped in front of the mirror above the sink with the intent of shaving. It would be ugly with the tools he had available, but so much better than not doing it at all. He dried his hair some more to stop drops of water from sliding down his face from his hairline, then pushed his fingers through the wet strands in a mockery of styling his hair with gel. 

At the back of his head his fingernail caught on something, and he moved both his hands there to inspect the area. It was tender, and as he scratched at it, it felt like a scab. Not remembering how he had got a head injury like that, he first blamed it on the initial arrival of the Commander, but as his fingers searched the area some more, mapping it out, he could feel something beneath the skin that wasn’t part of the healing wound. 

He supposed it was possible he had a piece of debris lodged in there, but the shape felt too smooth and cylinder-shaped, like a long capsule. Besides, the other scrapes he had sustained in the small blast caused by the Tesseract were more healed than the one he was feeling his way around, and he began to feel increasingly suspicious of what lay beneath his skin. 

Tony decided that whatever it was, it was going to come out. He worked the scab off with his fingers first, grimacing at the slight twinge of pain. Blood flowed from the exposed wound, but he could feel the unfamiliar shape even more distinctly. With determination, he grabbed the shaving kit and tore it open, fishing out the razor. It was far from an ideal cutting tool, and not seeing what he was doing wasn’t helping either, but he could feel the cylinder beneath his skin and one way or the other, he was getting his hands on it. 

He clenched his jaw and inhaled as he pressed the blade against his skin, feeling the incision and maintaining the pressure as he tried to cut a line along the cylinder’s length. Not wanting to repeat the treatment, he soldiered on and pressed the razor down some more, making sure he cut in deep enough. 

With a shuddery gasp of pain he finally pulled his makeshift knife away and dropped it in the sink. His fingers were covered in blood so he rinsed them quickly, leaving bloody prints all over the faucet. He reached back into his head once he had most of the blood off his hands and dug into the wound, trying to restrain from making sounds that would alarm the Commander as to what he was doing. 

At first he wasn’t sure whether his cut was deep enough or close to the cylinder, but then he managed to push it towards the wound with his left hand’s fingers and felt it touch the digit burrowing into his skin. Getting his thumb and forefinger in there, wilfully ignoring the pain in favor of _getting the thing out of his head_ , he tried to grab onto the tiny object. It was slippery, but with the fingers of his left hand pressing it towards the exit, he finally felt it pop out a bit. He almost didn’t catch it, feeling it slide down his neck, but finally managed to track it down and get it between his fingers. 

Bringing it around for inspection, Tony swiped a bloody thumb across the tiny piece. It was metal, and too smooth to be something that had accidentally lodged itself in his head. Without any kind of equipment, he couldn’t tell what it had been there for, but perhaps that explained the lack of response from his suits. 

Grabbing onto it with two hands as best he could, he twisted the cylinder in half. It gave a tiny crack as it broke in two. Flicking the pieces into the sink, Tony flexed his arms in a familiar motion, to try and call the armor to him once more. 

Then he waited, trying to count the seconds until one of them would come bursting through the wall – or the Commander would figure out he was up to something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	13. The Spike

****

# Chapter 13: The Spike

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


The spike came as suddenly and without warning as it always did. J.A.R.V.I.S. couldn’t be caught unawares, exactly – no more than usual – seeing as his attention was always divided amongst hundreds of simultaneous tasks. However, this was something the AI had been waiting for with the virtual equivalent of bated breath: a remote call for the armor registered on the servers, gaining a priority status as soon as it was pinged through a specialized satellite network. 

If J.A.R.V.I.S. had had an actual heart, it might have skipped a beat, but all the AI did was prioritize the command even further at the same time as he accessed the speakers on all the levels where the Avengers had spread out while waiting for news: 

_“A signal has come in from Mr. Stark. I am currently decrypting the exact location. Stand by for Quinjet launch.”_

****

* * *

Steve scrambled up from his seat the second J.A.R.V.I.S. began his announcement. There was something in the AI’s tone that informed his body it was urgent; something was happening, and he was ready to move out before his brain even deciphered the meaning of the message. 

Tony was alive and somehow contacting his AI. 

“Where is he?” Steve asked even as he descended the stairs to get to the modified Quinjet he had been shown before. It was larger than the standard S.H.I.E.L.D. ones – and faster, if the user manual was to be believed. Knowing Tony Stark, Steve didn’t doubt it. The man seemed like the type who took a look at something and instantly thought of ten ways to make it better. The end results weren’t always what other people preferred, but in this instance, Steve was planning on putting the new Quinjet through its paces once they had a heading. 

_“Data incoming,”_ was all J.A.R.V.I.S. said. 

Further inside the hangar, one of Tony’s armors was coming into view. It wasn’t the one Steve had seen earlier, but it looked like it was in a hurry to pull itself together and go somewhere; clearly it knew where it was needed. Steve watched it like a hawk even as he pulled on his gloves and adjusted the shield on his back. 

One by one the other Avengers and their allies started showing up, in various states of readiness; some of them were in full gear while others were just getting started, clearly having relaxed while waiting for news. Steve hadn’t been able to join them, too fixated on the fact that they needed to locate Tony as soon as possible and once they did, there wouldn’t be a second to waste if they wanted to get to him in time. 

That may have been a little over the top, but the Commander had managed to make the two of them vanish quite effectively. J.A.R.V.I.S. had still been searching when this new information came in, and it didn’t sound like the AI had managed to locate Tony on his own. 

If Tony was sending a message, it was their duty to be ready and follow it to the source. 

“Everyone’s almost ready,” Natasha told him when she arrived, zipping up her catsuit. Clearly she thought it needed to be said – and maybe it did: if they weren’t ready, Steve would take off without them. 

Tony’s suit was making its way towards the hangar doors now, clearly not waiting for anyone else. Steve took a step towards it, not to be left behind. His eyes checked out the silhouette, mind calculating whether he could hitch a ride on it. 

“Not the best idea, Captain,” James Rhodes’ voice reached his ears just before the heavy footfalls of his armor followed; he was exiting an elevator, already suited up. “Clinging onto one of these is hard enough for a short flight.” 

“You sound like you have experience,” Steve replied. 

“Some. I don’t think the armor’s taking passengers, anyway; Tony’s calling, and it’s going to break all the speeding limits to get to him.” 

“You’re going to follow?” Natasha asked, taking in Rhodes’ armored appearance. 

“Hell yeah,” the man nodded. 

Steve felt like punching him, for some irrational reason. He wished he had an armor of his own, or the skill to safely fly the Quinjet. 

It must have shown on his face because Rhodes looked a bit contrite for a moment. “The others are on their way. You won’t be more than a few minutes behind us.” 

“Few minutes too long, if you ask me,” Steve stated. 

Tony’s armor reached the opening doors, repulsors lighting up in preparation for take-off. Steve contemplated hitching a ride on it regardless of Rhodes’ warnings; just because something was complicated didn’t mean he couldn’t do it, and it had never discouraged Steve for embarking on an adventure. 

War Machine walked past him before he could give into the impulse, though, an armored hand clapping his shoulder in a tight grip that could have been easily bruising if prolonged. “We’re gonna get to him in time, and there will be plenty of ass for you to kick once we get our hands on that HYDRA copy of yours.” 

“Our numbers seem slightly excessive, considering it is but one man we are facing,” Thor mused as he walked up, followed by most of the other superheroes. 

“Better safe than sorry,” Bruce stated; he was the only one not donning some kind of uniform – for obvious reasons. 

“Maybe you should sit this one out,” Natasha started. 

Bruce gave her a look that spoke volumes of just how much he _wasn’t_ going to be hanging back at the Tower while the rest of them headed out to save their teammate. 

The armor took off from the platform outside the hangar doors with a roar of repulsors, streaking a line across the sky. A news chopper almost got cut in two when it strayed in front of it, but the armor sped past it with only a tiny adjustment to its course, then vanished from sight behind the tall buildings of Lower Manhattan. 

“It’s not gaining altitude,” Sam mused. 

_“The remote recall signal is coming from Brooklyn,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. announced. 

“How did he get that far without anyone noticing?” Clint asked even as he started to make a beeline for the Quinjet. 

“He did, and now we’re going after him,” Steve decided. Brooklyn made sense because it was someplace he knew – or at least had known. There was no knowing how familiar his HYDRA counterpart was with the area, but that’s where he had taken Tony. 

While Rhodes walked out onto the ramp and took off after the Iron Man armor, the rest of them piled into the Quinjet. It was obvious Thor was debating whether to fly after the armors, but he eventually followed the rest of them into the aircraft and Clint shut the ramp behind them. 

The engines started with a soft roar, and some kind of automated system guided the Quinjet out the doors and out onto the ramp. Steve spotted the wings opening up, and then he strapped himself into a chair for take-off. The power of the propulsion was significant, lifting the Quinjet into the air in a controlled hover and then thrusting them forward in an arch that took them past the nearby Chrysler Building and that same chopper the Iron Man suit had almost collided with previously. 

Steve willed himself to sit still, knowing the flight would be a short one at the pace they were accelerating. Once they landed, he had to be on full alert, ready to out-perform the Commander. Just because he had backup didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be motivated to defeat the other on his own, but his pride wasn’t too much to endanger getting Tony back safely. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	14. The Delay

****

# Chapter 14: The Delay

  
  
****

### Brooklyn, NY

  


As nonchalant as Tony tried to be, not to alert his captor, he made one mistake: he reached out to lock the bathroom door. 

Rationally, it made no difference. A normal door in a run-down motel wasn’t going to stop the supersoldier from getting into the room, but some simple part of his brain dismissed that in favor of the illusion that it might buy him some time. 

Not five seconds after he turned the lock, something banged against the door from the other side and the entire thing cracked through the middle. Tony jumped back just as the Commander’s fist punched through and tore one half off the door clean off its hinges. 

There was no hiding the mess in time, and Tony just stared back at the other man when he saw the icy eyes take in the blood spattered all over the sink and the smears of it on Tony’s hands he was yet to wash off. 

The Commander’s eyes met his, then traveled slightly south-east. Tony didn’t feel it, but he guessed there were blood trails making their way down from his hairline and across the naked skin of his neck and shoulders. 

“Put on your clothes,” the Commander snapped. 

“I haven’t finished shaving yet,” Tony protested, trying to keep his voice even. “The razor slipped –” 

The Commander growled and took one giant step forward, ending up right in front of Tony. He had rarely felt so naked and vulnerable in his life – the towel he had wrapped around his waist had fallen to the floor while he was digging for the foreign item in his head. He tried to be empowered by the idea that his armor was on its way, but he couldn’t be sure that was the case and until the armor actually got to his location, it was of no use to him. 

“Put on your clothes, now, or I’m going to drag you out of here _naked_ ,” the Commander hissed in his face. “Your choice.” 

Tony had enough shame to take the offer, and pulled his clothes on hastily. The other man was positively vibrating by then, fists clenching and unclenching, head turning slightly every now and then as if to listen to an approaching threat. Nothing seemed to be coming their way, though, and Tony started to fear something was truly wrong with the implants. 

Could it be that the device that had knocked him out had damaged them? What was the purpose of the tiny cylinder he had just dug out of his head? Surely it hadn’t been there for decoration only, and he could sense the Commander was far from pleased with what he had done. 

Tony tried his best to dress slowly – as slowly as he dared, anyway – but he knew that dragging his feet about it too openly would just result in not wearing those clothes at all. 

When the Commander’s eyes started to dart his way a bit too often, Tony knew his time was running out. He had bought his armor as much time as he could afford, and in case it was coming, it would be able to hone in on his location even as they moved. 

“I should clean the blood and dress the wound,” he stated, as a last resort to delay their departure. 

The Commander just sneered and jerked his head as a negative. 

“It’s just going to keep bleeding,” Tony protested, and it wasn’t a lie. 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to deal with it for now,” the Commander responded. “We’ve moving out.” 

“If I get an infection and die, it’s on you,” Tony pointed out. 

“That’s why you have Extremis; to prevent that from happening.” 

Tony supposed so, although he wasn’t sure it would actually kick in before he was well on his way to a life-threatening blood poisoning. 

The Commander looked like he was seconds away from physically removing Tony from the bathroom, so he tried to wipe away most of the blood on his neck with the towel and then dropped it to the floor, signaling that he was done. That was apparently an invitation to have his arm grabbed and his body shoved through the broken doorway and then out the door of their motel room, back into the sunlight outside. 

Once on the street, the Commander started heading in a different direction than where they had come from, soon dodging into an alley between two demolition-ready buildings. Tony was trying to walk at a normal pace but kept finding that the Commander’s stride almost forced him into a slight jog – up until he was suddenly thrust face-first into the broken concrete wall of one of the buildings, the air escaping his lungs rather painfully. 

“If you keep finding ways to push me, I’ll just push back,” the Commander hissed as he held him pressed against the wall. Tony couldn’t breathe, and the strength the supersoldier was exerting threatened to break his ribs. “Next time you dig this out,” he said as he pushed something into the wound in Tony’s head, making him gasp in pain, “I’ll shove it so deep in your gut you’ll need a surgeon to dig it out.” 

Tony whined as he felt the fingers pushing something deeper and deeper into his skin. At least that’s what he imagined was happening, because he didn’t think there was another reason for the Commander to shove a finger into his head wound. 

Finally the other man pulled his finger out and stepped back, allowing Tony room to breathe and sag a bit against the wall, the back of his head throbbing with pain. He could actually feel the tiny rivulets of blood making their way down his skin, only stopping when they reached the neck of his shirt, slowly soaking into the material. 

Before he could actually catch his breath, the Commander pulled him up and off the wall by his arm, continuing down the alley again. Tony stumbled along, having a hard time keeping up – and then heard the familiar engines. 

His mouth opened to yell, but the Commander pulled him roughly to his chest before he could get a word out, a hand clasping tightly across his mouth. Tony struggled to throw him off, knowing that the armor was close – probably searching the area near the motel. It was only a matter of seconds before it would spot them, and he could almost taste freedom. 

Apparently the Commander knew the score because he bodily dragged Tony along, keeping a close watch on the sky above them while seeking cover near the wall of the building. Near the end of the alley there was a large metal dumpster. The Commander sized it up, then adjusted his hold on Tony, using one arm to both pin Tony’s body to his and curl the fingers of his hand around his throat to effectively stop any sound from possibly escaping his lips. The grip threatened to suffocate him by the time the Commander had opened the dumpster’s heavy hatch, and Tony’s lungs burned as he was manhandled into the confined space. 

The Commander had to let go of him shortly as he jumped in after him, but Tony was so busy coughing and struggling to breathe that the thought of calling out didn’t even cross his mind. Then the hatch was closed behind them, not with a slam but a soft little thud, and the Commander lay half on top of him, one hand moving up to ghost over the immediate vicinity of his throat and jaw in case Tony got the idea in his head to make a sound aside from drawing air into his lungs. 

The dumpster was blessedly empty, save for some old papers caking the bottom and a couple random plastic wrappers. While he loomed over Tony in the dim space, the Commander dug with his free hand into the utility belt around his waist, which was becoming a source of dread for Tony thanks to the things that had come out of it before. The Commander pulled something out, which he positioned against the side of the dumpster, and a moment later Tony felt something like a low current moving across the surface and through his body. 

All sounds became muted. Tony couldn’t hear anything past his ragged breaths. When he thought the suit might be close by – he imagined the dumpster’s walls were softly vibrating with the force of the repulsors – he moved one leg to kick at a metal wall. The motion was swiftly brought to a halt as the Commander rolled further on top of him, curling his limbs around him like a snake suffocating its prey. Tony could hear the anger in his breaths and then the fingers were on his throat again, which prompted him to mewl softly in a plea to prevent another chokehold. 

The fingers settled around the top of his throat but didn’t quite squeeze the bruised flesh. The warning was clear, though, and Tony focused on breathing and being as quiet as a church mouse even though it was preventing his rescue. However, it wasn’t going to make any kind of a difference if he lay passed out, and he didn’t particularly like the idea of being unconscious in the Commander’s presence – especially when the man was obviously angry at him. 

As they lay in the darkness, Tony had no idea how much time passed. It felt like hours, his ears straining to pick up sounds from the outside world, his brain trying to calculate whether the suit’s scanners should be able to pierce the metal of the dumpster. A specific search should have revealed their location, but seeing as no one came knocking, the Commander’s ploy had to be working. 

Just as he began to wonder whether they were going to stay in hiding forever, the Commander moved slightly. Tony guessed he was pressing his ear against the side of the dumpster, to get a better read on the situation outside. He tried doing the same, laying his ear flat against the bottom of the dumpster, but he couldn’t make out anything. 

Perhaps that was what prompted the Commander to shift. Instead of getting up, though, he leaned further over Tony, the hand on his throat shifting its hold and starting to squeeze. “This is about as much trouble as I’m going to have from you for one day,” he whispered in Tony’s ear. 

Tony tried to struggle, his body instinctively kicking into high gear as he was deprived of precious oxygen. The Commander’s hold was solid, however, and Tony’s panicked struggling eventually ceased into feeble little jerks as his mind began to lose its ability to function – shortly before it all just went dark in one painful, sickness-inducing wave. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	15. The Frustration

****

# Chapter 15: The Frustration

  
  


“Where’s the signal?” Rhodey called out, eyes searching the HUD in vain. 

_“It has disappeared,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied coolly, as if he didn’t care either way, but Rhodey was fairly certain that wasn’t the case. 

“How?” 

_“That I cannot answer.”_

Beside War Machine, Tony’s armor moved to search the streets below. There was still plenty of daylight, but the rundown neighborhood was a perfect place to dodge out of sight. 

“Did you get eyes on him?” Rhodey asked, feeling a bit desperate. Tony had been _right there_ , until he wasn’t. Rhodey hadn’t actually managed to lay eyes on him, but the dot representing his location had been glaringly bright. 

_“No,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. responded, and it sounded a lot like a snap of frustration. 

“How far behind are the others?” 

_“85 seconds.”_

Rhodey didn’t look forward to breaking the news to Captain America. If only they had deployed faster, this wouldn’t have happened. Or perhaps it would have, regardless of their response time, seeing as they were facing off against a celebrated tactical genius. So far this other Steve Rogers hadn’t disappointed anyone with his fighting skills, and Rhodey was kind of looking forward to seeing the duplicates clash in a re-match; it was bound to be spectacular, seeing how pissed Cap was about losing the first round. 

Finding Tony was more important than a childish desire to see one supersoldier fight another – especially when it was quite possible Tony was in danger of being harmed by his captor. 

As J.A.R.V.I.S. had informed him, the Avengers’ Quinjet curved to a landing a minute and a half later. Rhodey flew over to them, touching down just as the ramp was lowered and the star-spangled figure of Captain America strode out. 

“How could you lose him?!” he yelled; obviously J.A.R.V.I.S. had broken the news to the rest of the team. 

“He must have known we were nearby,” Rhodey said. “They can’t be far.” 

“We’ll spread out to widen the search,” Natasha joined Rhodey in an effort to keep Cap from losing his cool. 

Logically, there was no way for the Commander to escape, especially if he had Tony with him. With Thor, Rhodey, Sam Wilson and Mark 45 in the air, it should have been impossible for them to escape the perimeter they kept steadily widening, but as minutes kept on ticking by and there was no other signal coming from Tony, Rhodey began to wonder whether he had ever even been there. 

He posed the question for J.A.R.V.I.S. “Could it be a glitch?” 

_“The signal was steady for several minutes. I fail to see how it could be an error,”_ the AI replied. 

“Could it be replicated, like a decoy?” 

_“That would require intimate knowledge of Mr. Stark’s physiology.”_

“Which this guy might just have,” Rhodey muttered. 

“They were at the motel,” Clint Barton reported over the commlink. “The clerk had a pretty solid description although there are no security cameras operational on the property or in its vicinity. It also seems they left the room in a hurry and it matches our timeline.” 

“Anything interesting in the room?” Cap asked. 

“Blood,” Barton replied, not sounding happy about it for obvious reasons. “I’ve sent a sample for J.A.R.V.I.S. to analyze. There were no signs of struggle other than a busted bathroom door, and the amount of blood doesn’t suggest a deadly injury.” 

_“The blood is a match to Mr. Stark’s.”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. informed them. 

Somehow, that had been expected. 

“Well, at least we know he was here, and that he’s still alive,” Rhodey decided. That was so much more than what he’d forced himself to go on when Tony went missing in Afghanistan. 

“He’s still here somewhere,” Cap decided. “Keep looking.” 

****

* * *

An hour later, they would have literally been looking under rocks had there been any large enough to hide a person. Somehow, the Commander had slipped past them, and Steve kept beating himself up, trying to figure out how he had done it and where he would be headed next. 

His frustration was palpable, and his teammates avoided him unless there was something truly pressing to report. 

Steve wished Tony would have put up more of a fight. He knew that was also unfair, not knowing what the situation was like. Tony was no match for the Commander without his suit or a weapon to even the score. The man was inventive, yes, but it was unlikely the Commander would just let him run wild and put together the means to escape. 

“This guy knows how to disappear,” Natasha mused, appearing beside Steve and clearly unafraid to speak her mind. “J.A.R.V.I.S. is going over satellite footage, but it’s a cloudy day.” 

“Of course it is,” Steve bit out. 

“He got a signal out once, he’ll do it again,” Natasha informed him. “We have somewhere to start tracking them down, and we’ll keep at it, but right now…” 

“The team wants to head back?” Steve guessed. 

“There’s nothing here.” 

“ _They were here_ ,” he snapped, stressing every word. “Right here. The armors got here too soon for them to run, so they had to go to ground.” 

“From where they may have since moved on, even though we’ve been scanning the area,” Natasha pointed out. “You’ve found your way past enemy lines in tougher situations than this.” 

It rankled Steve to hear the truth, and that his own skillset was being used against him and why they had ultimately lost their chance to get Tony back. “I hate this guy,” he said with a passion. 

“We’ll get him,” Natasha promised. “And you’ll get your rematch.” 

The way she phrased it prompted Steve to actually look at her and raise an eyebrow, which his cowl mostly hid. 

Natasha gave her a smirk that would put _Jaws_ to shame: “Everyone’s looking forward to witnessing that fight.” 

She made it sound like a championship fight, but Steve didn’t care. It didn’t matter whether people would be watching, or whether he even got to deliver the last punch – although he would prefer doing it; they had to take the Commander down. Whether it came before or after rescuing Tony… 

That was what he had to focus on – not the idea of beating up a rotten version of himself who happened to be holding one win over his head. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	16. The Temper

****

# Chapter 16: The Temper

  


They were underground, in what looked like a long-abandoned subway tunnel. It was definitely the kind of place where a villain would make his escape, to put some distance between himself and the good guys and use the dank darkness to fuel his nefarious plans. 

Tony didn’t much care for the tunnel, but after the incident at the motel it seemed very unlikely his opinion would matter to the Commander – especially when the other was still enraged at almost getting caught. 

In true spirit of lashing out with twice the malice against those who wronged you, the Commander prowled the darkness around Tony until he simply walked up to him and struck him across the face. An actual punch would have probably broken bones, but the swipe nonetheless sent Tony crashing into the wall behind him, his hands bound once more and therefore unable to protect him from the impact. 

“I told you not to play tricks on me,” the Commander spat, coming over and yanking Tony back to his feet. 

“What did you expect?” Tony snapped back, head still reeling from the impact. That wasn’t enough to dampen his spirit when he was the one being held captive, and that clearly rubbed the Commander the wrong way. 

“I’m angry,” he rumbled, face inches from Tony’s. His hands held him so tightly that he was almost lifting Tony off his feet, and it seemed to take much of his willpower not to simply shake him like a ragdoll. 

“Duly noted,” Tony responded, letting his own anger freely color his tone. They both knew now that playing nice was just an act for him anyway. 

The Commander’s fingers tightened a fraction more, and then he shoved Tony back into the wall. His bound hands stung with pain, being forced between his body and the wall. His head took a slight hit as well, but he had the presence of mind to try and tighten his neck muscles to minimize the damage, which worked for the most part; neck pain was infinitely better than a cracked skull. 

Releasing his hold, the Commander prowled into the darkness again. Tony could hear his feet shifting gravel on the tunnel floor, suggesting he was too angry to care if he was making noise. It was better than the normally stealthy step, though, because Tony liked knowing where he was coming from even when he couldn’t defend himself. 

Knowing was half the battle, after all… 

“Just let me go,” Tony suggested. “You can slip away quietly and maybe, if you’re careful enough, we won’t find you.” 

“I came here for a purpose,” the Commander snarled. “If I don’t have you, I have nothing.” 

Tony closed his eyes to center himself against the pounding in his head. The darkness didn’t offer much to look at to begin with. “It’s not like you really have me now, either,” he mused, knowing how badly it would be received but also tired of the situation he was in. 

“I have enough,” the Commander decided. 

No one could claim he wasn’t willing to settle for so much less than what he wanted. 

It frustrated Tony to no end that he wasn’t able to find an angle that would actually make the Commander see reason. The guy was so wrapped up in his own beliefs that he was totally disillusioned to how the real world worked. Tony wondered whether it was madness or just the fact that he had ended up in a world resembling his, but the key features he had been most looking for were actually working against him. 

None of that meant he was justified in kidnapping Tony as his captive as if pure earnestness – or brute force – was going to change his mind. Perhaps that was how HYDRA did it, but Tony had no intention of falling prey to his tactics. He was backed into a corner with no immediate escape, yes, but it didn’t mean he was about to submit to this treatment without a good fight. 

“You do realize that I can make your life a living hell, right?” Tony mused out loud. “My team will never stop looking for me. They’ll hunt you like an animal, and I’ll fight every step of the way to make you stumble and fall so that they’ll catch up.” 

He heard the other man approach before the familiar grip of his fist around his throat appeared. The Commander lifted him clear off his feet and Tony wondered briefly whether his neck would snap from the treatment. 

Perhaps the Commander figured the same before he snarled and tossed him to the side. 

Tony’s shoulder hit the old train track, threatening to dislocate the limb from its socket. Pain flared along his right arm, and before he could roll away from the metal beam, the Commander was on top of him, heavy boot landing on his temple and pressing the side of his face into the tracks. 

The supersoldier could have cracked his skull like a melon under his boot, and Tony wondered if that was how it would end, eventually; if he didn’t give the man what he wanted, he would be granted the same fate as the Commander’s previous lover. Or, he would be killed in a fit of rage, which seemed a likelier option considering the Commander’s state of mind. 

Before the other could truly apply pressure on his skull, however, the Commander snapped out of it and removed his boot. Tony heard him mutter beneath his breath, perhaps counting to ten before he did something irreversible. 

“Pussy,” Tony murmured, against his better judgment. 

The booted foot swung against his face, and Tony’s consciousness was engulfed by a hot darkness deeper than the tunnel’s continuous gloom before his head even hit the metal beam of the track. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	17. The Balm

****

# Chapter 17: The Balm

  


Tony woke up to the taste of copper permeating the inside of his mouth. 

As his consciousness returned, there was a moment when he was floating, miles away from touching anything corporeal save for the disgusting, metallic flavor on his tongue. That didn’t last, though, and plummeting back to harsh reality threatened to overpower his senses. Sadly, it didn’t, leaving him digesting a whole lot of pain that his body was currently feeling. 

His head was pounding with every beat of his heart, and he could feel coagulated blood stuck to both sides of his face; his shoulders ached, which was by now familiar from being tied down, and his right arm was dancing with pinpricks of sharp, burning pain. He didn’t even realize his hands were untied until, belatedly, he discovered that his body was laid out on its left side on a hard floor. 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that registered in his ears. A hand brushed over his face, threatening to disturb the dried blood. “I shouldn’t have hurt you.” 

Steve… 

_It’s not Steve_ , his brain corrected. _I’m not safe._

“I untied your hands. I hope it makes you feel slightly more comfortable.” 

Considering everything, it didn’t make him feel better. Nor did he feel particularly safe, despite the other man’s soft tone. 

Tony sighed and tried to coax more spit into his mouth to wash away the tang of blood, but it didn’t seem to work. Besides, his throat was a growing source of pain, aching every time he swallowed or even slightly moved his head – which also served to notify him that his neck was a single stiff mass of _hurt_. 

It kind of made sense, seeing as he vaguely recalled getting kicked in the head. 

“Shh,” the Commander soothed, his fingers ghosting over Tony’s face and combing through his hair, actually finding a spot that wasn’t bloody or particularly painful. “Just rest. Let your body heal. Extremis…” He didn’t finish, perhaps dumbfounded by how Extremis had failed to intervene so far. Tony was seriously starting to agree with him: he needed a more aggressive approach for it, to stop something like this from happening again. 

How often would an evil copy of Steve Rogers drop in on them, though? 

“I should try to understand this from your perspective,” the Commander went on, for all the world sounding like a contrite man learning from his mistakes. Tony thought that was highly doubtful in reality. “It is just so frustrating, knowing how well we fit together and waiting for you to realize that as well,” he went on. “I know I could have a future with you. A real future.” 

_Too late_ , Tony thought to himself. He tried to crane his neck, to move his head away from the gentle touch of the man who had hurt him in the first place, but all he got for his trouble was more pain. For the time being, the Commander’s fingers were the only sensation that didn’t hurt, and he wondered if he did that on purpose; an ingenious plan to win Tony over. 

“I think I know how to fix this,” the Commander mused after a while. His fingers ceased moving and then disappeared altogether, and Tony squashed the tiny pinprick of remorse at losing the soothing caress of his touch; he wouldn’t have been in pain if not for the Commander, so there was no way he was really feeling thankful for his touch. Only, it kind of was distracting him from the pain… 

The other man shifted around for a while. Tony was in too much pain to try and see what was going on, even though his instincts would have normally coaxed him to do so. Besides, as far as he could tell, they were still in the underground tunnel and there wouldn’t be much to see in the almost nonexistent light. 

“This should do the trick,” the Commander said and something metallic was pressed against Tony’s temple. It wasn’t unlike the tiny disc that had caused him to lose consciousness before, and the memory made him stiffen in response. His anxiety wasn’t eased when he felt the other man press his lips to his forehead, like a lover or a parent might. 

Instead of new pain or unconsciousness, Tony began to feel warm and tingly. It was followed by a blessed numbness that slowly dwarfed the pain in his body, lulling him into a much-needed reverie. 

Tony must have actually slept because the next time he stirred, the pain was gone and the lingering tension of being stressed had vanished. He flexed his jaw and allowed his tongue to travel the inside of his mouth, but he could not taste blood nor feel his battered body protest. It was as if all of it had been a bad dream and he had just awoken safely in his own bed, the nightmare of the past few days just a memory gone by. 

“It worked better than I expected,” Steve Rogers’ voice reached his ears, and Tony blinked his eyes to assess the situation. The darkness was still very much around them, and it would take several minutes for Tony’s eyes to adjust to it. Still, he could sense the other man at his side, slightly bent over him like a predator waiting for its prey to make a move so that it could lash out at it again. 

They were still in the tunnel, and it was still the Commander, not Cap. 

“What did you do to me?” Tony asked, shifting up on his arms. That he could do that surprised him; he was neither restricted nor in pain. 

“I activated Extremis, prompting it to heal you,” the Commander told him. “How do you feel?” 

“Peachy,” Tony replied as dryly as possible. Sure, he felt great, but it didn’t mean all was forgiven. Far from it. 

“You are not happy,” the other mused, as if able to see his expression. Perhaps he did, supersoldier eyes and all. 

“I’m still being held captive. Just because I’m no longer in pain doesn’t mean I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.” 

The Commander huffed out a breath that may have originated from disappointment. “Alright… How could I make you happier? Aside from letting you go,” he added before Tony could say it. 

“That’s not how this is going to go,” Tony informed him. 

“You prefer being miserable?” 

“I prefer being a free man, instead of being held by an abusive asshole who is driven to make his point no matter what the other parties involved might want.” He kind of wished he could stare the other man down, but knowing that it hadn’t worked very well before, Tony was glad for the darkness. “You’ll learn you can’t force me into doing something. If the two of us hooked up in your world, it means I wanted it. This is _not_ what I want.” 

“Then I suppose you’ll be miserable until you grow accustomed to it,” the Commander degreed, sounding just as unhappy as Tony felt. Clearly, this wasn’t working out for either of them, but the Commander was too stubborn to accept alternative options – which meant they were at an impasse until Tony managed to free himself or his team located him. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	18. The Bystander

****

# Chapter 18: The Bystander

  


Although they still couldn’t agree on how to proceed in their obvious conflict of interests, one fact didn’t require negotiating: Tony needed to eat. 

After Tony’s injuries had healed and he was no longer reeling from that experience, his body promptly notified him it was lacking sustenance. The Commander had pulled some kind of power bar from his pocket, but Tony was leery of that and it wouldn’t have been enough to feed the two of them anyway. 

So, the Commander accepted his role as provider and went out in search of more food. 

Tony, unsurprisingly, found himself chained to the wall. To foil any escape plans, he was actually secured to something quite solid instead of simply having his hands tied, and in the pitch black it was impossible to see whether he could work himself free once the Commander left. Nonetheless, he attempted to feel his way around, but it ended up being one fruitless attempt after another. 

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, there was not much to see. The walls were too far apart from each other to actually be seen, and the echoes supported Tony’s theory that he wasn’t in a simple tunnel anymore. A decommissioned subway station seemed a likely option. 

That information, if indeed fact, might narrow down the possibilities of his current location. Tony cursed himself for not being able to place the motel, but none of the street names he had been able to glance at had rang a bell – not that it was surprising because Tony had more important things to remember than back street addresses. 

It didn’t help that he wasn’t sure how long he had been out after the Commander messed with Extremis. It could have been anything from minutes to hours, even days. 

He had been so close to being freed, though… 

Banging his head back against the solid wall, he cursed his newfound talent for being a damsel-in-distress. One of his armors had been close enough for him to hear it, so why hadn’t he made his presence known? To hell with the bruises the Commander would have inflicted upon him; he would have been located and rescued and this whole ordeal would have been that much closer to ending. He’d had a window of opportunity, but instead of seizing the moment he hadn’t been able to make the most of it. Now he was stuck here, wherever ‘here’ was, biding his time once again. Furthermore, he had blown his one chance to pretend he was playing along with his kidnapper; the Commander would not be giving him any more liberties anytime soon. 

Tony felt stuck, and he didn’t like that. 

“Hello?!” 

Tony jerked at the sudden introduction of noise. Also, the voice calling out didn’t belong to the Commander – or anyone Tony thought he knew. The final syllable echoed on the walls, telling his brain it wasn’t just a hoax. 

“This tunnel is closed!” the same voice yelled; a man, probably pushing seventy. Far, far away, Tony imagined he could actually see a weak flicker of a flashlight approaching. “If you don’t get out, I’ll have to call the cops,” the man added. He sounded a bit uncertain, but that could just be a combination of the echo and his age. 

“Hey!” Tony yelled back to him. “I need a little help here!” He wasn’t exaggerating, but he also hated the whole needing-to-be-rescued bit, so he was trying to play it cool. 

The flashlight moved across the walls, betraying the size of the tunnel he was coming from. “Hello?” he called out again. 

Tony wondered if the man was half-deaf or something, or just not having expected to find someone who needed his help; a homeless person or some kids venturing into the tunnel was a far likelier option. 

“Here!” Tony shouted. He knew they had limited time before the Commander came back. How the man had even known someone was in here, he didn’t know, but perhaps this was the break he needed to get out of this deeply unpleasant situation. 

The shape of a man emerged from the tunnel and into the open area of the station. His flashlight was the only source of light, which didn’t give much to go on, but Tony could tell he was indeed an elderly man. Perhaps he was earning a couple bucks a night, patrolling an area where no one was supposed to be hanging out, seeing as there was no other reason he would have ventured into the tunnel. 

“Sir, if you could just hurry up a bit,” Tony called out. 

“You shouldn’t be in here,” the man said, pointing the light towards him, searching for the source of the voice. Clearly he hadn’t actually spotted Tony yet, just his voice. 

“I will get out just as soon as you untie me,” Tony promised. 

“Untie you?” the man asked, slowly climbing onto the platform from the tracks. “What the hell are you doing down here?” 

“It’s a long story,” Tony said, knowing it was just a matter of seconds before Gramps got a good look at his face and recognized him. “Just get me free, okay, and we’ll both walk out of here.” 

The man finally came close enough that they could more or less see each other. Grayed and wearing a faded uniform, the old man looked just like Tony had imagined him, and he congratulated him on having the guts to actually venture into the tunnels on his own. 

Upon seeing Tony, the man frowned. “You’re not the fellow I saw running into the tunnel.” 

“No, he’s not,” came a voice from the darkness, and then the Commander was there, appearing like a shadow come to life, and Tony opened his mouth in a shout just as the supersoldier reached out and seized the old man’s head, snapping his neck in an instant. 

“Fuck!” Tony yelled. “You didn’t have to kill him!” he added as the Commander let the body drop. 

The flashlight clattered to the floor, released from limp fingers, casting shadows on the nearest wall. 

“He would have called it in,” the Commander said matter-of-factly, crouching over the body. Wasting no time whatsoever, as if this was a routine task for him, he went through the man’s pockets, tossing items on the floor; phone, wallet, keys, a whistle. 

Tony stared at the dead man, realizing just then that he kept forgetting one important thing about the Commander, even though it was right there: he was a villain. Having been brainwashed by HYDRA for years, this was exactly the kind of thing he would do without hesitation. Killing an innocent man just because he happened to spot him sneaking into the tunnels. 

He wondered whether the man would have ended up dead if he hadn’t found Tony. If he hadn’t been so keen on doing his shitty, low-income job just this one time… 

The Commander picked up the phone and cracked it in half in his hands, then dug out the SIM card and snapped that one, too. “I found something for you to eat,” he stated, as if there was no dead guy lying right there. 

“I’m not hungry,” Tony said woodenly, still staring at the body. 

The Commander glanced up at him, then at the body, connected some invisible dots and then stood up, hauling the dead body with him. Tony watched as he took it to the edge of the platform, and although the flashlight’s beam barely reached there, it was obvious he just tossed the body onto the tracks. Then he turned and walked back, all but rubbing his hands together after a job well done. “Are you hungry now?” he asked, as if the absence of the body changed that. 

“No,” Tony told him, voice cold. 

“He was a threat,” the Commander stated, as if that made it all better. Perhaps it did, in his head. 

“He was a guy doing his _job_. Probably couldn’t survive with his pension alone so he had to take this job to cover the costs of living – or he had too much of a work ethic beaten into him that he didn’t want to stop being useful to society until he died. You should know: you come from the era when people knew how to work.” 

The Commander snorted. “Like you would know anything about it.” 

“Just because I live in an ivory tower doesn’t mean I’m blind to the suffering of others,” Tony snapped. “Most of my life I’ve worked to improve living conditions of those in hostile environments; to give them pure water and crops to feed them. Not to mention putting my life on the line to protect people and their seemingly insignificant lives.” 

“A true hero,” the Commander said, not without making it sound like an insult. It was so strange, hearing it come from Steve Rogers’ mouth. Sure, he wasn’t above questioning Tony’s integrity and intentions, but he would never, ever question whether people deserved to live, no matter what kind of conditions they were born into. 

It was clear the Commander didn’t care – or even if he did, on some level, it was all shoved back in favor of focusing on getting Tony back. 

Problem was, his Tony was dead and this one was a very poor substitute. The Commander was too stubborn to accept it – and unwilling to move on even if he did, because in his eyes even a poor substitute was better than none. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	19. The Clue

****

# Chapter 19: The Clue

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


After the deeply frustrating events in Brooklyn, the team headed back to the Tower. The trail had gone cold – not that they had much of a trail to begin with; half the team had gone back out there, out of uniform, to see whether they could sniff anything out, but it had been a dead end. 

Beyond that it was all in the hands of J.A.R.V.I.S., seeing as the AI was much faster at checking out possible leads that might pop up. Steve wasn’t sure whether that was actually enough, but the general consensus seemed to be that there was no one better equipped or motivated to look for Tony Stark than his own AI. 

For his part, Steve re-watched all the footage they had available on the Commander. His brain kept picking apart everything the man said and did; if he wanted to outsmart him, he needed to figure out how alike and unlike each other they were. Could he assume the Commander would be making the same kind of decisions he would under the circumstances, or did they have such a hard time locating him because of those vast differences? 

Up until HYDRA found him, their background was the same. Whether any of that man remained in the Commander, Steve wasn’t sure. 

“Have you figured him out yet?” Bruce asked when he came to sit in the chair beside his; the corner where Steve had set up his base of operations was quiet, separated from the larger space, and it seemed the others didn’t want to disturb him. Every once in a while, one of them would venture in, either to offer him food or check on his progress. 

Maybe they were just checking that he was actually still there and not out in the streets in a futile search. 

“I know we’re supposed to be the same guy, deep down, but I don’t see it,” Steve confessed. 

Bruce leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers crossing in front of his mouth in thought. “Well, we know he’s obsessed with having Tony by his side.” 

Steve nodded stiffly. 

“You don’t approve?” Bruce asked him. It looked like maybe he was smiling, just a tiny bit. 

“On principle or just because it’s Tony?” Steve challenged. 

“Whatever your issue, you’re fully entitled to your opinion,” Bruce offered diplomatically, clearly not wanting to be argumentative. 

“It doesn’t bother me, men being with men,” Steve revealed. “In my time, it used to be an issue, but that’s obviously not the case anymore.” 

“So it’s because it’s Tony?” 

“I don’t…” Steve frowned at the screen which was frozen on a grainy image – provided by the single working camera after the EMP – of the Commander carrying his unconscious captive out of the room while Steve lay incapacitated in the background. The armor couldn’t be seen from this angle, but he knew it was right there, outside the frame. “How do you fall for someone you’re fighting?” he finally spoke out loud. 

“Chemistry, I suppose,” Bruce shrugged. “Or maybe our bad guy isn’t as rotten as he appears. He didn’t kill you when he had the chance. Perhaps all he’s ever needed is the right person to pull him out of the deep end HYDRA put him in. After all, he was Captain America before the crash.” 

Steve nodded. “Still doesn’t explain how he and Stark… I mean, we hardly get along. I can’t imagine actively trying to kill him and ending up between his legs.” 

Bruce looked at him, seeming amused. 

“What?” Steve asked. 

“I was expecting you to blush from tip to toe when you said that,” the scientist admitted. 

Steve shrugged. “I’ve had ample time to wrap my head around that image. He wasn’t too shy about the details.” 

“Doesn’t mean you actually _had_ to think about it.” 

“Kind of hard not to,” Steve sighed. 

“Well, like I said… chemistry. Sometimes it takes time – and other times two things put together either blow up in your face or create the most beautiful synergy.” 

Steve tried to envision it. His feelings concerning Tony Stark weren’t as negative as they used to be when they first met, but it was a far cry from an actual partnership. He wasn’t certain Tony was even capable of that, seeing as he seemed to have little regard for how other people wanted things done. There was a generous side to him, of which the Avengers Tower was a very solid testament, but he was still a self-centered, egoistical bastard the rest of the time. 

Perhaps the Tony Stark of the Commander’s world had been different. That might explain most of it. 

It should have also meant he’d have stranded Tony somewhere by now, having realized he wasn’t suitable boyfriend material. 

“Tony respects you a great deal more than you realize,” Bruce said out loud. “You’re his childhood idol – but also the reason why his father spent most of his years searching for you and drinking his way through the failure of not succeeding. Plus the first time we met, it wasn’t the best of times for any one of us.” 

Steve knew Howard Stark had looked for him, long after fishing the Tesseract out of the ocean. He had also discovered through his own research that he had been just about as fond of having a drink in his hand as his son was – not that he had seen enough of Tony out of the armor to know if that was still a thing for him. Saving the world kind of got in the way of your buzz, if the Howling Commandos were any indication. 

But it had just meant hitting the bottle twice as hard when you had the chance. 

‘Work hard, party harder.’ 

It sounded like a motto Tony could get behind, but in all honesty, Steve didn’t know him well enough to make that assumption. 

Perhaps he should fix that, once they got him back. 

_“Captain Rogers,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up suddenly, _“there may be a lead.”_

“I’m listening,” Steve acknowledged, straightening slightly in his seat. 

_“A member of a security team down in Brooklyn has gone missing. His work area suggests proximity to a decommissioned underground line – quite close to where we lost track of the Commander.”_

“A perfect place to hide, and we know he’s already used the underground to get around unnoticed,” Bruce perked up. 

“Prep the jet,” Steve ordered, standing up. “Keep us posted on whether the man is found.” 

_“Of course, Captain. Shall I notify the other Avengers?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. didn’t seem to feel the need to differentiate between official Avengers and their assorted backup. 

“Please do,” Steve nodded and headed out, picking up his shield and tightening his uniform where he had slightly unfastened it when it looked like they might have to wait for news. It was possible this was a false alarm, but it was better to check it out than to sit here twiddling his thumbs. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	20. The Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author’s note:** Non-con warning for this chapter!

****

# Chapter 20: The Resistance

  


Even though the body was out of sight, Tony couldn’t seem to forget it was there; he kept staring in its general direction in the darkness of the underground station. For a man who had seen bodies before – and made plenty of his own – he seemed quite rattled by it. 

Perhaps he felt responsible because he had asked the man for help, but Steve would have killed him anyway after the old man happened to spot him slipping back inside the tunnel. He wasn’t taking any chances at this point, after what had happened at the motel. 

He should have known Tony would try to engineer an escape the moment he had the chance. Digging out the signal dampener was just one sign that he wasn’t going to be deterred by something as simple as pain. 

That was a trait he certainly shared with the man Steve had loved in his own world. It reinforced his belief that as different as this Tony claimed he was, they were made of the same ingredients. Steve just needed to stir things up the right way to bring out the results he wanted. 

“You need to eat,” Steve called out. He had left the flashlight on and positioned it so that it created a small circle of light, but it would run out of juice soon. Still, the light was better than darkness, especially if he wanted to keep Tony even remotely happy. 

Tony didn’t reply, morosely staring into the darkness. Every now and then he would shift a little, to accommodate his sore body where it was still tied to the wall – another precaution Steve would have loved to avoid if at all possible – but other than that, he was still and quiet. His mind, of course, would be actively working to plan his escape, and Steve needed to find a way to redirect all that energy into accepting that he should give this a chance. 

It didn’t look like Tony was about to come to terms with that scenario, though. 

Steve didn’t need him to be a voluntary participant from the beginning, but he would have preferred it. Forcing him now would pave a path that was filled with hardship and resistance, but if that was how it had to be… 

He moved over to the other man, holding up a sandwich he had procured earlier. “Eat,” he repeated. 

Tony’s eyes momentarily checked out the item, as if expecting a weapon – then moved to the side as if the Commander wasn’t even there. 

Like he was air. 

It pissed Steve off. Love or hate, he had always had Tony Stark’s attention. Perhaps that’s how it needed to be now, too: start as mortal enemies and make their way from there. He would have preferred foregoing that, but he understood why this Tony had such a hard time coming to terms with what had already happened in Steve’s own reality. 

“Fine,” he breathed out. “We’ll do it the hard way, then.” 

Tony’s eyes flickered towards him – he couldn’t help it. Obviously, he still thought it had to do with food, but Steve broke that illusion by tossing the sandwich to the side. That seemed to startle the other man into giving Steve his undivided attention. 

Steve smiled, satisfied – then leaned in and kissed Tony, pressing hard from the start while he still had the element of surprise. It wasn’t like his kisses in the past, where his Tony had either been kissing him back or biting him in aggression that was just a sparking layer covering the passion he actually felt. 

His kisses with this Tony had none of that, but he supposed that was to be expected when he was skipping half the history he had built with the man in his own world. He wasn’t about to wait, though, because he didn’t have the luxury of time here. 

Tony began struggling, trying to turn his face away and kicking out with one leg. Instead of backing off, Steve pressed further against him, one hand securing Tony’s face in a firm grip that would leave bruises along his jaw. 

The other man let out a furious sound of protest and it made Steve hot under the skin. His other hand moved down to unfasten Tony’s pants, not stopping to hesitate the same way he had last time; Tony was going to fight him every inch of the way, so what he had to do was assert his dominance over the situation and just make him see the truth. It might take a while, but Steve was certain they would reach a consensus eventually. He would wear down Tony’s resistance until he saw what was right in front of him. 

He wasn’t seeing it yet, though, the way he kept fighting, but with his arms tied to a railing above his head and Steve’s body easily overpowering him, it was all a fruitless effort. Steve yanked his pants down past his hips, and that made Tony freeze for a couple seconds before he really started to try and twist away – which only served Steve’s purposes at pulling his pants off altogether. 

“The more you struggle, the more it will hurt,” Steve informed him. There was no reason for him to be unkind – no more than Tony made him. He would try to make things easier for him, but if Tony optioned to fight him, that was his choice. Steve didn’t think he actually liked pain, especially since his Extremis wasn’t as advanced as his Tony’s had been; he couldn’t play with fire and heal from it, quite literally. 

Tony hissed a partially muffled threat at him, and Steve released his jaw in favor of forcing his legs apart. “This isn’t what you want,” Tony told him, desperation creeping into his voice. “It most certainly isn’t what I want.” 

“Clearly you have no idea where my desires lie,” Steve retorted, pressing close to him. Tony was in no position to actually dislodge him, the way he was pressed into the wall, and that freed both of Steve’s hands to prep him; he was only going to hurt Tony as much as the other man forced him to, after all. 

Tony’s struggles were ceasing, his eyes growing wide with alarm. “Did you rape him, too?” he asked, voice strained. He was trying to keep his cool but actively failing. 

“I didn’t have to,” Steve told him coolly and spat in his hand before reaching down to get a slick finger inside the other man. 

Tony tried to twist away one more time, then let out a small whine of pain as Steve pressed him a bit more firmly between his own body and the wall in order not to have him moving around while he worked to open him up. 

“Please,” Tony begged, “don’t do this.” 

Steve pressed his face into the curve of his neck and shoulder. “You’ll enjoy it, eventually,” he promised, kissing the skin. He even smelled like his Tony had, with only a subtle difference that was probably Extremis’ doing. He was very warm on the inside, though, body resisting the single digit Steve pushed inside him. No resistance would be enough to stop it from happening, though, and the sooner Tony realized that, the better. 

The other man’s brain seemed split between the desire to struggle and the instinct to freeze. Steve much preferred the latter, even though he loved the thrill of a fight and _winning_ the right to claim his lover. There was something feral about it, and Steve had always liked allowing that side of his psyche to come out and play. However, if he let it happen now, he might end up truly hurting Tony, and that wasn’t something he wanted for their first time. 

After all, the less this Tony hated him, the easier their future would be, despite the rocky start. It hadn’t exactly been flowers and sunshine for Steve in the past either, when it came to Tony Stark, and if he had to do it all over again… 

He would. 

He had simply hoped they could skip to the good stuff this time around. 

Tony’s body was tense against him, but Steve could tell when the other man felt his finger purposefully stroking against his prostate, over and over. He wouldn’t be able to be this precise later, so he wanted to see if he couldn’t win Tony over by making it pleasurable for him. 

The tension was probably watering down his attempts, however, but aside from striking Tony unconscious, Steve doubted he could make him relax enough to actually enjoy the act. He was getting impatient and angry with the other man, though; he had tried playing nice, but since Tony was not appreciating it… 

He would submit to it eventually, one way or another. Steve didn’t want to break him, but every man was malleable to a point. Even those who covered themselves with a metal cocoon. 

Tony’s breaths were getting short and sharp, his eyes alternating between staring at Steve and then away, as if he were trying to block this from happening. He clearly wasn’t registering the good feelings Steve was trying to give him, so he gave up on stroking his prostate and worked another finger inside beside the first. That was received with a tiny sound of pain, the brown eyes checking his face again, and Steve cocked his head and tried to kiss him. 

In a heartbeat, Tony’s teeth were digging into his lip and Steve pulled away, tasting blood, the sting already fading. 

“Really?” he challenged, licking the blood off his lips, tasting it properly – then spat it out, blood and saliva landing on Tony’s tightly closed lips. To show just how little Tony’s resistance affected him, Steve leaned in again, kissing him anew, his fingers working a bit harder inside Tony’s ass, forcing the muscles to yield. 

Tony made a loud sound of protest, lips still squeezed shut, face attempting to twist away along with his body, but Steve only had to lean in a bit more and the other man began to have a hard time drawing air into his lungs. 

Just like the Tony Stark he had known, this one stilled as well, the lack of air bringing back old ghosts. Extremis or no – arc reactor or no – some things were rooted too deep to ignore, even in times of distress. 

“Please,” Tony whispered, as if attempting to reason with him one last time. 

Steve removed his fingers from him, and the startled look on Tony’s face was almost comical; the ray of hope that he was getting through to him. Taking as much twisted satisfaction from that as he could, Steve ruined the illusion by moving to undo the front of his uniform’s pants in order to get his cock out. 

Tony’s eyes had always been the most expressive part of him, and this alternate version of the man did not disappoint; Steve could read his fear in them even when Tony tried not to show it on his face, as well as the flash of disappointment and despair when his plea went unheard. He knew Tony wanted to fight, but Steve had secured him to prevent just that. 

No reason to make it harder than it had to be, especially while they were on the run. 

“One day, when you say ‘please’, it’ll be asking me for more,” he mused and spat on his hand to get his cock slicked up. 

Tony had to be biting his tongue not to answer. He turned his face away and closed his eyes, jaw tight, and Steve didn’t waste time, yanking his knees up and pushing inside him. Tony’s eyes shot open and his fingers squeezed around the railing hard enough to make it complain a bit. He didn’t voice the pain he was feeling, but his breaths were almost sharp enough to cut air. 

Steve knew he wasn’t tearing the other man, but that didn’t mean it was pain-free, especially in their current position. To him, the squeeze of Tony’s body was heavenly, bordering on painful, and he cherished it, not moving for a bit. A lesser man may have pulled back and done something to lessen the painful clutch around their dick, but Steve had long since learned to find pleasure in pain because one was more frequent than the other. 

With Tony, there had always been pain, whether it was teeth pressing into his skin, fingernails leaving half-moons of blood on his shoulders, or the heat beneath his skin searing into his own. 

One day, he would have that again. 

He began thrusting, not bothering to move more than was necessary to bring himself off. There was no proper lubrication and the longer he went on, the closer Tony’s breaths bordered on crying. He didn’t catch a single tear, however – at least, not before he adjusted his position, yanking Tony’s hips into his lap for a better angle, and knocked over the flashlight, plunging them into the shadows as the device rolled away, pointing its light in a different direction. 

The darkness amplified everything, narrowing his senses: he could hear their breaths echo on the walls, the shuffle of their bodies. Steve was quiet, not feeling like this was the time to pretend he was actually enjoying this more than he was. A quick relief, nothing more, staking claim on what was his. It would be better in the future, when he began wearing down Tony’s resistance or they weren’t being hunted by the Avengers. 

He fully expected a red glow to appear at some point. In the darkness it would have been easy to spot, but it never happened. Steve thought he could feel things moderately heating up around his cock, especially when he started to get close to shooting his load, but Extremis never rose to the surface, staying dormant deep within Tony’s body. 

The tension pulled on his balls and he let it go, not trying to hold it. All things considered, this wasn’t the reunion he had wanted, but he could pretend. Tony’s body was familiar in his arms, the taste of his skin almost the same when he mouthed at his neck as he came, breathing hard through it. 

Tony was very still afterwards, only wincing when Steve pulled out and shifted his body back to the dusty floor. The bindings shifted slightly against the railing Tony’s hands were tied to, but he was still securely held in place. 

Steve got his feet under him and reached out to fetch the flashlight, bringing it back around. 

Tony recoiled from the light, slowly pulling his knees up, face turned away. There was a faint line drawn on his cheek, possibly a trail left by tears, but Steve didn’t brush his finger against it or leer; it was smarter to leave him be for now, then approach him with kindness afterwards. Steve could almost smell the humiliation Tony was feeling, and it served him better not to aggravate the man more at this moment. 

He positioned the flashlight so that it left Tony in a bit of shadow, then got up and tried to clean himself, fastening his uniform again. Finding release eased some of the anxiousness he had been feeling inside, but it also threatened to make him lower his defenses, which would be dangerous right now. 

“You’ll get used to the idea of us,” he murmured, knowing Tony could hear him. “No one’s going to threaten what we have; not the Avengers, not HYDRA. Not Bucky.” 

Tony snorted, but it lacked some of its usual sharpness. “One of these days, that bubble of yours is going to burst. I sure as hell hope I’ll be there when that happens.” He shifted again, trying to curl up, but with his arms held above him he couldn’t actually do that. 

Steve felt a rising urge to hurt him, to make him stop saying that, but he told himself to be patient. 

Tony would come around. It was destiny, the natural order of things, and if Steve had to force it a bit to speed things along… he supposed he was fine with that. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	21. The Trail

****

# Chapter 21: The Trail

  


The tunnel loomed in the pitch black beyond the reach of the piercing beam of light. 

“Which way, Cap?” Clint called out. 

Steve looked around. Altogether the area was mostly closed off warehouses, train yards and lengths of tracks that led nowhere. Some of the land had been re-purposed, but it was quiet enough to serve as a viable hiding place. 

“Choose a direction you like best and we’ll start with that one,” Natasha stated. “The Commander is likely to pick the same option as you would.” 

“Or not,” Steve reminded his team. “He knows who’s after him. He might actively choose something else.” Besides, their similarities were limited, as far as Steve could see. Just because he would think to pick one option over another didn’t mean a HYDRA agent would do the same. 

The beam of light moved to the side, away from the gaping entrance of the decommissioned underground tunnel. It was the most tempting option, and the moment the light moved, Steve felt like calling out and redirecting it back towards the tunnel. 

It would have been his first choice. There were multiple points to connect to the rest of the underground network, and while getting simple supplies like fresh water might be trickier, there were more exits to be had. More alternatives… 

“We just need to decide on a starting point,” James Rhodes spoke up. “If that doesn’t pan out, we’ll widen the search.” The beam of light moved back to the tunnel entrance, and Steve nodded his head in approval. Clearly someone was agreeing with him, even when it wasn’t an actual living being; Tony’s armor was pointing the light, controlled by J.A.R.V.I.S., and it was easy to tell the AI liked the tunnel as their best option as well. 

It was also the least appealing one, because it would make their work so much harder. 

“The armors cannot enter the tunnel,” Steve said out loud. “While the rest of us go check for signs inside, I want Iron Man and War Machine out here, forming a perimeter. The wider the better. If they come out in the open, we cannot miss them again.” 

Rhodes grumbled but didn’t protest; he outranked Steve, but this wasn’t a military mission and the only option for him to enter the tunnel was out of his suit. “They won’t slip past us again,” Rhodes vowed and Steve could hear him getting back inside the armor and then take to the skies, a cloud of dust rising in the aftermath of his takeoff. 

Iron Man remained on the ground, still pointing the powerful light at the tunnel. Steve turned to look at the armor, wondering if there was something J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn’t telling them. 

_“Good luck, Captain,”_ was all J.A.R.V.I.S. offered him once his eyes landed on the golden faceplate. _“I shall inform you of any new developments. However, the signals are going to be weaker underground, and there is a chance of us being cut off from one another.”_

“Understood,” Steve nodded, having expected it. For the most part, Stark’s tech had worked flawlessly, but if they ventured too deep, it might become an issue. “Let’s go,” he called out to the others. “Anyone who doesn’t feel like coming in is welcome to stay out here and start a patrol.” 

No one volunteered to stay with Rhodes and J.A.R.V.I.S. – not that Steve had expected it. Well, perhaps Bruce, who could put them all in danger if the Hulk was unleashed – or Clint, seeing as he liked to be up and above the action if at all possible, but he also knew the armors had that part covered for the time being. 

As the Iron Man armor shut off the light and joined War Machine in the air, the others began to turn on their lights, most of them mounted on their shoulders to leave their hands free. Steve adjusted his own, making the light slightly less bright in hopes that his eyes would better adjust to the darkness. 

Judging from the marks on the tunnel floor, people liked to venture inside through the gate that had been cracked open one too many times for it to keep anyone outside. There were old piles of burnt wood from fires and arrays of empty bottles and cans of food. However, after half a mile, such signs vanished and it was just the emptiness around them, silent and somewhat suffocating. 

“Someone’s been through here,” Natasha said, checking the tunnel floor. 

Steve agreed but said nothing, following the weak footprints further inside. 

They ended up following the tracks, finding them here and there, depending on the amount of dust and gravel on the floor. Steve hoped they belonged to the missing guard; he may have simply been injured and in need of assistance, but there was also a distinct possibility he had unknowingly walked into the Commander’s hide-out. 

Either way, following the tracks was the best way to proceed as long as they couldn’t find other signs of the Commander or Tony. 

“We should be nearing a station,” Bruce called out after several long minutes had passed. He had several maps on a tablet he was carrying, and trying to read it in the dark had caused him to stumble multiple times. Still, Bruce seemed drawn to the screen, perhaps to distract himself from the enclosed space around them. 

“Any news from the outside?” Steve asked out loud, pressing a finger against the earpiece in his right ear. 

_“It’s quiet out here,”_ Rhodes reported back, only minor static affecting the connection. 

The tunnel widened suddenly, a platform appearing on their right side. Behind him, the team adjusted their lights, and Clint jumped up onto the platform, his flashlight sweeping the floor. “Someone’s been here,” he reported. 

“But they’re not here anymore,” Sam added, hoisting himself up to the platform as well. 

Steve continued along the tracks for a bit longer – then noticed a lump in the middle of them. Experience told him it was a human being, too still to be alive, and he walked over to check it, Natasha, Bruce and Thor on his heels. 

“Alas, this must be the missing guard,” Thor lamented as they gathered around the body. 

Natasha crouched down and Bruce leaned over to get a better look as she moved the body. It was an old man, and only his worn uniform revealed that he was indeed the missing guard. Steve felt a pang of guilt, thinking how unfair it was that the man had met an end such as this instead of living out his days in peace he must have deserved. 

“He didn’t just fall and break his neck,” Natasha observed. 

“I would say the falling took place after he was dead,” Bruce agreed. 

“The Commander,” Steve guessed. He knew how easy it was for him to break a grown man’s neck, and out of the two of them, the Commander would have much more experience with it. 

“Cap!” Sam called out, and Steve turned away from the dead man, jumping up onto the platform. Sam and Clint were standing on the far edge of the platform where steps disappeared into the darkness. Steve spied an abandoned sandwich on the floor – odd, considering how hard finding food would be when one was on the run. 

“I would say they were definitely here,” Clint mused, pointing at something. 

Steve approached and saw what he meant: there was a railing bolted to the wall, and a section of the floor beneath it was disturbed. Someone had sat or lain on the floor, leaving marks in the dust, and it wasn’t for just a few minutes either. 

Natasha joined them, taking in the marks. “Tony must have been here,” she decided. “There are marks on the railing: he was tied up.” 

“Didn’t put up too much of a fight,” Clint noted. 

“Which is smart,” Steve cut in before anyone would suggest otherwise. “Stark knows he can’t just fight his way out of this, so conserving energy is what he should be doing.” He stepped up to the smudged floor and touched it, as if he could draw more information form it. As his flashlight’s beam lit the floor even further, he could see faint smudges on the concrete. He trailed his fingers through it, deciding it was not blood. Not water, either, because it wouldn’t have left that much of a stain, faint as it was. 

“We’re on their trail,” Natasha said, as if to encourage him. “Tony’s alive, and seeing as there’s no blood all over the place, I would venture to guess the Commander isn’t keen on hurting him.” 

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Bruce mused as he climbed off the tracks. 

Thor relied on Mjolnir to get up, creating a bit of a gust as he soared upwards and then landed on the platform, looking around. “Which way did they go? We did not see their tracks while coming here?” 

“Must have gone deeper,” Sam decided and looked down the awaiting darkness of the tunnel where it continued on past the closed station. 

“Look for tracks,” Steve ordered. “If they don’t know we’re onto them, they might not be hiding their progress, but just in case, keep an eye out for what might be a false trail.” 

Clint and Sam headed up the stairs to check that section of the station, and the others spread out to check the rest of the station and tracks. 

“This way,” Natasha called out soon after. “Two sets of footprints – one of them dragging their feet too much to try to be stealthy.” A smile was tugging her lips. “Tony’s trying to make it easier for us to find him.” 

Steve hoped that was the case, and not some injury they weren’t yet aware of. 

“We can’t just leave the body here,” Bruce mused, standing over the dead guard. He looked apprehensive; he wanted to come and help rescue Tony, but if it came to blows, the Hulk wasn’t their best choice for a fight underground. 

“I’ll help you get him out,” Sam volunteered. He looked at Steve, meeting his eyes, letting him know he wanted to be more useful than that, but leaving a man behind didn’t sit well with any of them. 

Steve nodded. “Stay in contact.” He looked at Natasha, Clint and Thor. “We move fast and quiet. If he hears us coming, the Commander will disappear.” His eyes lingered on Thor, asking whether silence was something he could do. 

Thor nodded, accepting the terms, and the two groups split up. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	22. The Clash

****

# Chapter 22: The Clash

  


Tony stopped mid-step and stomped his foot down, hard gravel shifting beneath his shoe. “I’m tired of walking,” he declared. 

The darkness moved as the Commander turned, their single light source weakening by the hour. Tony expected to be backhanded or scolded, but the super-soldier simply took a step towards him, his eyes moving over his body. 

Tony stood his ground. For the time being, he was completely unrestrained, but he had no illusions that running away or trying to find a weapon lying around would get him anywhere. He had enjoyed the limited freedom of walking on his own, but he was reaching his limit. “What’s the plan?” he asked the Commander bitingly. “Are you going to punch me out and carry me, caveman-style, or maybe threaten to drag me by my hair?” 

“That would hurt you unnecessarily,” the Commander replied. “I don’t want that. I can see that your feet are weary and your body aching; there’s no reason to apologize for that.” 

Tony felt the heat of shame on his face for being found out. He didn’t think the other could see it in the dark, but there was something the Commander had to be seeing, the way he was looking at him. “Then I suppose we’ll take a break,” Tony ventured to say. 

“Perhaps,” the Commander mused, taking another step towards him. The way the light was pointed, it left half his face in shadow, and Tony could see the parts that were identical to the Steve Rogers he knew. He looked perhaps a second too long because a smile teased the stern lips. “What do you see, when you look at me?” 

“A whole lot of ugly,” Tony replied, with as much spite as he could. 

He got a chuckle in return. “Yes, that is what people see. Not very stealthy, and it certainly has made my life more difficult. It’s a good thing I’m adaptable.” 

“Clearly not enough because you keep going after the same thing,” Tony muttered. 

“You’re more human than he ever was,” the Commander stated, taking the last step that brought them chest to chest. Tony tried backing away and felt an arm wrap around his waist, keeping him right there. “I forget, sometimes.” 

“Well, I’ll be happy to remind you. Also, should you decide I’m just an inferior version of him, feel free to just leave me right here and keep on walking; I’ll find my way out,” Tony said. 

Another chuckle, and then the Commander leaned forward and laid a tender kiss on Tony’s forehead. There was no other way to describe it, and Tony wanted to shudder at the sensation, but his body was too worn out to execute the command. Or, his body just didn’t think it necessary, even though it really should have, all things considered. 

“I don’t have anything else,” the Commander murmured, breaths ghosting against Tony’s hairline. He was so close Tony could smell him, and if he had ever been close enough to Steve to smell him, he could have compared whether the two were the same. It certainly wasn’t the scent of apple pies that filled his nostrils, but it wasn’t pure evil oozing out of his pores, either. 

There were times Tony had a hard time telling himself to hate this man; to blindly ignore the fact that he was a human being who had gone through something terrible and couldn’t really be blamed for any of it. No more than Steve was blaming his old pal Bucky who was now the Winder Soldier. 

“I’m sure you could find other things if you tried hard enough,” Tony mused, forcing his body to stay tense and not accidentally lean into the body in front of him. He didn’t want to unintentionally instigate physical contact. 

The Commander made a dismissive sound, his chin leaning itself on Tony’s head. The arm around him wasn’t unyielding like a prison, but more like an embrace. 

Tony jerked back, almost breaking free until the arm stiffened and shifted, a hand clamping around his wrist to keep him from putting more distance between them. His wrists still ached from being bound before, making him hiss. 

“I’m sorry,” the Commander murmured. “If you wouldn’t fight me…” 

“You’re not sorry,” Tony snapped. “If you actually gave a shit about how I feel, you would have let me go days ago.” 

The blue eyes flashed, searching his gaze. “It might take time, but you’ll get used to the idea.” 

“You don’t know that!” Tony’s voice echoed in the tunnel long after he was done shouting out the words. 

The fingers tightened around his wrist in warning. “We had something special. I want that back,” the Commander ground out. “My intention is not to hurt you.” 

“My asshole disagrees,” Tony spat back. 

The Commander dared to chuckle at the crude words, his hold on his wrist easing just so that his thumb could draw circles on Tony’s skin. “You’ll learn to enjoy it.” 

“Maybe he did, but I think I’m the best person to decide what I do and do not enjoy. I have preferences, and the thing we did earlier doesn’t even remotely fall within my comfort zone. Either you get that through your thick skull of you’ll find me stabbing you in the back –” 

A tiny bang echoed up the tunnel they had been walking in for the last few hours, the sound cutting Tony off. The Commander’s thumb stopped caressing his skin, for which he was glad, and they both listened for another sound. Tony tried to make a quick calculation of odds between the hope of a rescue and fearing another innocent person stumbling across their path, but he wasn’t fast enough to decide which was more likely before the Commander yanked him back against his chest, a firm hand clamping over his jaw and mouth, muffling a startled yelp. 

There were a few other sounds in the next minute or so, too far apart to immediately assume they might have originated from the same source. It may have just been old pipes groaning, or a train passing by somewhere. 

At least, that was what Tony thought, but with the Commander’s hand blocking his airway, he was getting slightly too preoccupied to listen as he struggled to draw in air past the fingers blocking his nostrils. Tony tried to hint at his impending suffocation with a growl, but that was completely ignored. Next, he tried to stomp down on the Commander’s foot, already feeling the tension growing in his chest as he wasn’t capable of drawing enough air into his lungs, and that got him a low growl of annoyance and an even firmer grip around the lower half of his face. 

Growing desperate and still remembering the nauseating feeling of falling unconscious from lack of air, Tony clawed at the arm holding him captive, not caring whether someone was coming towards them or not; the need to survive overrode all other thoughts. Unable to dislodge the arm and growing weaker as he grew more frantic, Tony knew he was facing grim odds all over again. His mind screamed at his body to do _something_ about it. 

He felt hot, all of a sudden, with dread and animal fear, the urge to _fight_ an extension of the need to _survive_. Breathing was a natural state, and being denied the ability to do so sent his body into overdrive. This had happened before, not too long ago, and that knowledge fed the fearful anxiety that demanded that he prevent it from repeating itself, somehow. 

“Fuck!” the Commander hissed, suddenly letting go and shoving him to the side so hard Tony had no chance of finding his footing. He crashed down to the tunnel floor, forearm colliding painfully with the tracks, but he was able to breathe again and that meant more to him than a belated radiation of pain along his limb. 

Something _swooshed_ over his head, and the tunnel exploded with light. It was blinding, but Tony’s entire body was already burning up so his brain simply registered it at a sluggish pace. An instant later his eyes took in a flash of metal – just before the Commander swung out with his arm, smacking aside the flying object. It rebounded off the floor and then skidded down, sparks flying as it slid along the tracks before coming to a halt under a dark blue boot. 

The Commander growled, and from the corner of his eye Tony saw him flexing the arm he had used to defend himself from the projectile. 

“End of the line, pal,” Steve Rogers’ voice called out. 

Tony turned his face towards him, watching him pick up the shield. Behind him, Clint Barton had his bow cocked while Natasha Romanoff and Thor were spreading out, effectively blocking the way they had come. 

“Stark, you okay?” Clint called out. 

Tony made a sound that may have been meant as a ‘yeah’, but he was still sucking in precious air, head feeling hot as it spun a little. 

“He doesn’t look well,” Thor murmured, voice carrying in the tunnel. Something was still casting light around them – _a special arrow-fitted flare_ , Tony’s brain supplied. 

“I’m fine,” Tony murmured, voice barely there. He felt funny, all tingly, and when he looked down at his arm that was still aching, he saw his skin was faintly radiating with red. 

Well, that explained Thor’s statement. 

“You shouldn’t have come after us,” the Commander said, taking a step towards Tony. 

Clint shifted his bow, Thor raised his hammer-arm, and Steve adjusted his hold on his shield. Natasha didn’t bother with a weapon just yet, but she was cautiously watching the scene unfold. 

“Get Tony,” Steve ordered. “I’ll take care of him.” 

“Didn’t end so well for you last time,” the Commander sneered, removing his shield from his back. 

“This is going to be different,” Steve promised. He didn’t sound like Captain America, exactly. There was too much anger in his voice, plus the hint that he was going to enjoy what happened next. 

“I say we play this safe,” Clint offered. “Sit Mjolnir on his chest and see how tough he is, flailing around like a tortoise.” 

“No,” Steve refused. 

“We can’t afford to let him slip away again,” Natasha reminded him. 

“He’s not going anywhere,” Steve snapped. “Not without his prize.” 

“Then we better secure the prize before he makes away with it,” Thor decided and began to stride forward. 

“You are treating this whole episode like a nuisance,” the Commander stated, taking another step forward. 

“Don’t move!” Steve barked. 

Tony could hear a smile in the villain’s voice when he replied: “You couldn’t stop me from taking him before. This isn’t going to be any different.” 

One moment it was a Mexican standoff of two sides – but no less filled with tension – and then something snapped: Steve attacked, two vibranium shields clashing together and threatening to break Tony’s left eardrum, and all he could do was roll to the side to avoid being stepped on as the supersoldiers clashed. 

Thor was there a moment later, crouching over him and pulling Tony to his feet with too much force to be comfortable. He followed, though, trusting that he was relatively safe from abduction as long as he stayed near the Asgardian, and followed his lead back to Clint and Natasha. 

“Should we do something?” Clint asked, and Tony turned around to find the Commander and Steve engaged in a fight that lacked any of the grace he was used to seeing in Cap’s fighting style. The beating they were giving each other was brutal and mean, the tunnel almost trembling whenever one threw the other against the wall and tried to move in for an incapacitating attack. Every blow that landed made Tony grimace and jump, but the two seemed immune to the strength of it in the frenzy of their battle. 

“Maybe we should just let it play out,” Natasha suggested, even though she didn’t sound like she considered it a good idea. “Cap’s been itching for a re-match.” 

A matter of pride or principle, Tony couldn’t help but be a little concerned their man was going to lose: Steve took a few hard hits in the head, then a knee in the gut, and almost crashed into the tunnel floor. 

“Thor, be a good boy and wrap this up,” Tony begged, just wanting this nightmare to come to an end, and the Asgardian nodded and transferred the job of supporting Tony to Natasha before striding forward, hammer sparking in anticipation. 

The Commander looked up at him, shifted his stance, and told Thor to bring it. 

Too late Tony realized just how bad an idea this had been. 

“Thor, no!” he and Clint yelled at the same time as the magical hammer and the unbreakable shield met. 

Once upon a time, the impact had leveled a surrounding forest. This time the space was limited, the pressure wave slamming Tony and his companions off their feet, landing them down hard a few second later. The air was rumbling and dust coated everything, falling off the ceiling. 

“We need to get out, now,” Natasha urged them then coughed. 

“Cap, Thor!” Clint called out. 

“Dammit,” Steve hissed – or possibly it was the Commander, Tony couldn’t quite tell. 

Thor stumbled towards them, dragging Steve along with him. “The villain has escaped,” he reported. 

Tony was mildly surprised, but he supposed the Commander had known he couldn’t take the entire team on his own. 

“We had better move or we’ll be gone as well,” Clint stated grimly and pulled another arrow from his quiver. Instead of firing it, he thumbed off the tip of it and dragged it against a nearby wall, triggering the flare and filling their surroundings with an almost blinding amount of light. In the dense cloud of dust, however, it soon dimmed to a bearable level. 

“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered and followed Clint’s lead, pulling Tony along, half-supporting him as they walked. There were no protests from Thor or Steve, and Tony wondered whether both of them were thinking this could have gone better. 

It certainly could have, but Tony was going to count his freedom as a win – if he didn’t get buried alive in the next few minutes. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	23. The Rescue

****

# Chapter 23: The Rescue

  


The trek out of the tunnel seemed to take forever. Dust burned in his lungs and the darkness beyond the flicker of the flare seemed deeper than ever. 

They had finally rescued Tony, however, and that was worth every ache in his body, Steve decided. 

Yes, he wished the battle between him and the Commander could have come to a different ending, but he realized he hadn’t been focused enough and that had left him at a disadvantage. 

He needed to fix that before the next time the two of them clashed – if the Commander managed to escape the collapsing tunnel. Knowing himself and his tendency to make his way out of every tight spot, Steve didn’t bother to entertain the hope of the Commander’s demise as any kind of real likelihood. 

They managed to find the mouth of the tunnel before one of them collapsed from lack of clean air. No sooner had they stepped outside, still surrounded by a cloud of dust, that their teammates surrounded them – including Tony’s armor controlled by his AI. 

“What happened?” Bruce asked, alarm in his voice. “Where’s the Commander?” 

“Dead, we hope,” Clint grunted. “However unlikely that is.” 

“What happened?” Rhodes asked then, snapping open the faceplate – only to cough at the dust. “The whole tunnel is unstable for miles.” 

Steve winced. He hadn’t really thought of the destruction while they tried to escape it. 

“Thor banged his magical hammer against Cap’s mighty shield,” Tony supplied. “Last time they leveled a forest. For some reason, they seemed to expect a different result this time.” 

“You really need to work on that,” Natasha agreed. 

Thor looked contrite and just a bit angry. “It was not on purpose.” 

“On purpose or not, we got him back,” Clint pointed a thumb at Tony – who was already proceeding towards his armor. His gait was just a smidge unsteady, but Steve supposed that was understandable, plus it was possible he was injured. 

_“Sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. greeted. _“I am relieved to find you in one piece.”_

“Me, too,” Tony agreed. “There’s a chip in the back of my neck. It needs to come out right now.” 

The armor cocked its head slightly. _“I can see it,”_ the AI responded. _“It seems to be some kind of disruptor.”_

“I know,” Tony said impatiently. “Apply local anesthetic and cut it out,” he said, turning his back to the armor without wasting any time. 

“Woah, Tony,” Bruce hurried over. “Can’t it wait?” 

“I want it _gone_ ,” Tony replied, voice sharp. “Just in case he shows up again…” 

“We can do it back at the Tower,” Bruce tried to insist. 

_“It is not a bad idea,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. agreed. _“I do not want to cause undue damage.”_

“I dug it out once,” Tony snapped over his shoulder. “Get rid of it, J.” 

“I get it that you want it gone, but the wound will get infected,” Bruce attempted to reason with him. 

“We won’t let him take you again,” Thor added. “You are safe.” 

Tony stilled, something passing across his features. Perhaps it was wounded pride that he needed to be protected. Maybe it was something else entirely. 

“Did he hurt you?” Bruce asked. “Are you injured?” 

“I’m fine,” Tony murmured, eyes not meeting anyone else’s even though he didn’t seem to be avoiding it; he just found something else to look at, mainly the entrance of the tunnel. “Did you find the guard?” he asked suddenly. 

“Yes,” Bruce answered. “It’s being taken care of.” 

“Okay,” Tony gave a small nod, face troubled. “He tried to help me.” 

No one said anything for a minute. 

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Bruce asked again. 

Tony’s expression switched over to irritation. “I’ll manage until we get to the Tower.” Whether he meant some hidden injuries or the chip, it was unclear. 

“Did he hurt you?” Rhodes asked, giving Tony another once-over. His faceplate was still up so he couldn’t be seeing something the rest of them weren’t. 

Tony let out a mirthless chuckle. “Not more than I made him, apparently.” 

It was vague to say the least, and it made Steve uneasy. 

“We’ll get him,” Rhodes promised and glanced at the others. “I’ll continue aerial surveillance and see if he pops up somewhere.” He sounded determined, but that alone wouldn’t be enough. 

“Let us know if you find something,” Natasha replied, and Rhodes nodded, then gave Tony one more look and snapped shut the faceplate and took off, lifting another cloud of dust in his wake. 

Tony cringed at that and wiped his face with a slightly trembling hand. 

“Are you –” Bruce started asking. 

“I’m fine!” Tony snapped loudly, making Bruce take a small step back. “Stop fucking pestering me.” 

Everyone held their breaths until Bruce nodded and physically moved away from Tony, still looking like he doubted Tony was as fine as he claimed. 

Steve was kind of curious about that, too – although perhaps not exactly in the same way as Bruce. He and Tony hadn’t had time to talk to each other yet, and it was hard to tell whether Tony was avoiding him, but the sooner Steve learned the truth, the faster he could react to it. 

Just because he didn’t want to ask the question and was even less thrilled at hearing the answer didn’t mean he had the right to remain silent. 

“Did he touch you?” he asked Tony. 

The man’s head jerked up from where he had been studying the ground. “What?” he blurted out, looking like he had been caught unawares. 

“Did he touch you?” Steve repeated. 

“I think ‘hurting’ kind of covers that, Cap,” Clint mused. “Knowing Stark, he gave the Commander such a hard time they had to be butting heads – even though he looks remarkably good with that in mind,” he added, looking at Tony, searching for the same injuries everyone else kept expecting. 

Well, everyone except for Steve, because he wasn’t worried about the usual violence that often resulted from being a captive. That stuff was bad, but he trusted Tony to know his way around it. What he was aiming for was different, and Tony seemed to know it – as well as Bruce, if the expectant yet cautious look on his face was anything to go by. 

Tony visibly hesitated, then shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yeah,” he said, still going on with the charade, but when his eyes glided over Steve’s figure, ever so fast, something was already changing in his demeanor. 

Steve felt an unpleasant weight settle on his chest. 

“Cap?” Sam called out, clearly seeing something was happening. 

“I think I’m missing something,” Clint admitted. 

Natasha gave a slight shake of her head, keeping the archer from asking more questions. Either she knew what they were referring to, or she knew well enough to leave it alone for now. 

Bruce looked tempted to repeat his question from before, but he bit his tongue against it. 

Tony had gone back to looking at the ground, eyes tracing the marks War Machine’s takeoff had left. 

The longer Steve’s brain mulled over the fact that the Commander had sexually assaulted his teammate, the worse he felt. Not just the knowledge and the effort it took not to picture it in his mind, but also the fact that every time Tony looked at him from now on, he would be reminded of it. No matter how casual he tried to play it off, Tony’s body language was getting more obvious by the second, and things like these… 

He had to get away from Tony before he made it worse, Steve decided. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	24. The Guilt

****

# Chapter 24: The Guilt

  


When Cap set off like he had suddenly found himself standing on fire-hot embers, it startled Tony. He had expected a stoic nod and a tension in the jaw area, but storming off? 

It made Tony feel filthy, not to mention angry, and his hand shot out before he could think it through, grabbing onto Steve’s arm to stop his escape. The muscles tightened beneath his grip and the blue eyes flashed to check his face. 

“What’s the rush, Cap?” he asked, voice tight – fingers tighter. He knew he couldn’t hurt the man, but oh, how he wanted to. “Can’t stand to be in my presence, knowing what happened? Grow up,” he snapped, anger pushing to the surface. “I don’t care how it makes you feel – how spectacularly it fails to reach the standards of your approval – but you don’t get to just walk away like my presence if going to taint you somehow.” 

Something flickered over Steve’s expression. “I don’t think that,” he snapped back. “I just thought it best to remove myself from your presence because every second you spend looking at me, you’ll be reminded of _him_ – and what he did.” 

Tony blinked. “You’re not him.” 

“Do you know the difference?” Steve challenged. 

“I do,” Tony informed him, voice sharp with tension. He noticed he was still holding onto Steve, and forced his fingers to uncurl from around his arm. “You’re not him,” he repeated, lowering his gaze – not because Steve reminded him of the Commander, but because he had severely miscalculated the reason behind Steve’s escape from the scene. He refused to be embarrassed, though, because eventually Captain Righteous would come around and find some way to blame Tony for what had happened, or at least find him repulsive for allowing himself to be held captive and then sexually assaulted. 

He would look at Tony and wonder why he hadn’t put up more of a fight, and the natural logical jump would be that perhaps he had wanted it, on some level. 

The silence from around them was getting suspicious, and Tony snapped out of it, looking around at the rest of their team. They wore several different shades of confusion on their faces, and Tony was in no mood to explain – nor would he want to, even when the mood passed. 

Steve seemed to be thinking along the same lines and started walking towards the Quinjet parked a short distance away. He was still stiff with tension, but at least he moved like the man Tony remembered fighting alongside. The Commander didn’t have a limp, exactly – he was too much of a supersoldier for that – but there was a definite difference between how they moved around. 

Fewer threats of violence, too. 

“Tony,” Bruce started. 

“If you ask me again whether I’m fine, I’m going to punch you in the face,” Tony threatened, not even looking at the other man. 

“We should get going,” Natasha said, a bit louder than necessary, to get them moving. 

“Aye,” Thor nodded. “I shall join War Machine in the sky, to see whether we can locate our villain.” 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Tony muttered, not being too optimistic. Captain America wasn’t so easily caught, and that was something the Commander shared with him. If he was still alive, he would find his way around unseen. The chances of him having died in the collapsing tunnel were small at best, but one could hope… 

Thor took off, his magical hammer leading his ascent into the sky. Tony watched him go, then turned his gaze towards the waiting Quinjet. 

“Let’s get going,” he decided. “I need to get the chip out of my head, and if that’s not happening here…” 

_“I would much prefer sanitized equipment, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. agreed through the armor’s speakers. 

Tony cast Bruce a quick look, knowing the other was itching to add that he needed to be checked for injuries. That wasn’t the first thing on Tony’s list, although he would appreciate a shower and clean clothes. 

He debated sending J.A.R.V.I.S. to join Rhodey and Thor on their patrol, but decided against it: the AI didn’t seem anxious to assist in the search for the Commander, and Tony would rather keep an armor handy, just in case… 

They set out towards the aircraft as a unit, the armor’s motions loud enough to discourage any random conversation. Tony made sure to make himself as inaccessible as possible; he was less and less in a mood to talk, despite being safe. 

He needed to get this experience out of his system. Nothing like a good reboot… 

Steve was already sitting inside the Quinjet, staring at the opposite wall. His expression was hard to read, and he seemed startled when Tony walked up the ramp, the others following him. He must have known they would join him sooner rather than later, so maybe he had just been deep in thought. 

Tony was glad he couldn’t read his mind, just in case. 

Clint moved to the front of the aircraft, clearly to pilot them back to the Tower, and Tony quickly selected one of the seats away from the others, wanting to be left alone. The armor followed him, and Tony welcomed the clunky suit as a makeshift barrier. 

Bruce didn’t seem to get the hint: he dodged past the armor and selected a seat opposite from Tony, strapping himself in. 

Tony sighed and followed his lead, taking a page from Cap’s book and staring at a wall for the entire duration of the flight. Soon he could surround himself with familiarity and an environment that was purely under his control. He would feel a lot better once that was the case, and he couldn’t wait to get there. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	25. The Homecoming

****

# Chapter 25: The Homecoming

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


As soon as the Quinjet had landed and docked, Tony was on his feet and moving, leaving everyone else in the dust. He entered the workshop on the hangar level and swept his fingers over the control panel at the door, locking himself inside. J.A.R.V.I.S. could let Mark 45 in later, but for now Tony needed some privacy. 

_“Dr. Banner is requesting access,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. notified him less than a minute later. 

“Tell him I’m busy,” Tony said. “Think you can remove the chip for me?” 

_“I think Dr. Banner has more dexterity than I do,”_ the AI retorted. 

“Well, I could use a mirror,” Tony mused. 

_“Please, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. pleaded. 

Tony stopped and sighed. “Fine.” 

He heard the door unlock long enough to let Bruce inside. 

“You’re here only to help me get the chip out,” Tony informed him. 

Bruce froze mid-step, looking uncertain. Tony stared him down, body half turned away from him. He wasn’t being defensive, exactly – no reason for that – but it seemed to be unnerving the other man. 

“You should be checked out, just in case,” Bruce started. 

“I’m fine,” Tony told him. “Granted, I’ll be better after a shower –” 

“Tony,” Bruce cut him off. “Someone needs to take a look at you.” 

“No,” Tony refused sharply. “Are you helping me with the chip or are you getting out?” He stood his ground, unrelenting, and eventually Bruce sighed and nodded, looking around. 

J.A.R.V.I.S. lit up one corner of the workshop, suggesting it as a good place for the procedure. Tony headed over there, pulling off his shirt to get it out of the way. He tossed the garment in the nearest garbage bin, knowing he would never wear it again. 

Bruce followed him, a bit skittish but nonetheless picking up necessary equipment as J.A.R.V.I.S. verbally guided him: antiseptic wipes, gauze, dressings, a scalpel, and tweezers. 

Tony sat backwards in a chair and leaned over the back of it, rolling himself to the left until he was under a bright light. “Scan it,” he ordered, certain that J.A.R.V.I.S. knew what to do. 

A holographic screen appeared beside him, slowly forming a picture of his head and neck, the highlighted shape of the chip showing up clearly in the image. Bruce dug out his glasses and put them on, then got some disposable gloves and pulled them on his hands before stepping over and pressing his fingers against the back of Tony’s neck, feeling around. 

“It wasn’t too deep the first time,” Tony said. “Dug it out once…” 

“I can’t see any sign of that,” Bruce noted, puzzled. 

Tony grit his teeth. “Extremis. I’m amazed the chip survived that…” 

Bruce looked like he was going to ask, but Tony reached out and plucked the scalpel from the table suggestively. 

The other man dismissed it with a purse of his lips and went for the antiseptic wipes instead, cleaning the area before accepting the blade, then with a steady breath he cut into Tony’s skin, not even asking whether he wanted a local anesthetic. 

Tony curled his fingers around the back of the chair and forced himself to breathe in, trying to minimize the pain. It flared when the scalpel made the cut, but it was such a fine blade that it merely stung afterwards. 

Bruce reached for some gauze to stop the blood from sliding down Tony’s back, then carefully dug into the wound with the fine tweezers. That part hurt, and no amount of inhaling was going to make it vanish, but Bruce had clearly found his target on the first try: Tony felt him pulling something out, the object dragging against the sides of the wound, and then he heard it being lowered onto the table with the tweezers. His eyes checked for it, locating the chip, bloody and intact. 

“Analyze it,” Tony murmured to J.A.R.V.I.S. “Make sure it won’t work as a tracking device.” 

_“Yes, sir,”_ the AI responded instantly. 

“Do you want me to stitch this up?” Bruce asked, pressing a fresh layer of gauze against the wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Sure,” Tony shrugged. The motion made the wound sting, and he tried to be still while Bruce went to retrieve the items he needed to patch him up. 

Five stitches later, Bruce cleaned the area and dressed the wound. 

“I need to shower,” Tony announced. 

“Try not to get the wound wet,” Bruce warned him. 

“I’ll re-dress it after,” Tony promised. 

Bruce didn’t say anything, but he was giving him a long, imploring look. 

“I’m fine,” Tony said again. He was bruised – Bruce could see as much – but that was all. Well, that was all anybody was going to see, the rest of it was something Tony needed no one else’s help with. Extremis had fixed up the real injuries the Commander’s anger had caused, and the ones he had sustained afterwards weren’t life-threatening. 

Before Bruce could mount an actual argument, Tony stood up and walked out the workshop door, taking the back stairs to his room to avoid the rest of the team. Within his own quarters, he felt like letting out a sigh of relief, and for a few minutes he just wandered around, touching his stuff and moving things around – then moving them back to their original spots. 

This was his space and he was in control of it. A home… or, as close to home as any place was at the moment. The Commander had got in there once – by appearing out of thin air – but he wasn’t going to be so lucky again. So, it was reasonable to feel safe for the time being. 

Once he had established that in his mind, Tony moved to the bathroom, stripping as he went and discarding the rest of his clothes in the trash. Before stepping into the shower, he covered the bandage at his neck to protect it while he showered. 

The warm water felt heavenly on his skin. Everything around him was familiar, and when the silence started to get to him, he turned on the sound system and ordered J.A.R.V.I.S. to play the last couple days’ worth of business news to distract himself while he washed his lower body. 

It seemed the world hadn’t even realized he had been missing, and that was how he preferred it. One question would lead to another, and in case they managed to somehow get rid of the Commander, there was no reason to tell the world they currently had two Steve Rogers’ walking around – especially when one of them happened to be a little insane. 

_“Mark 43 is awaiting repairs,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. informed him when he was done toweling off. 

“How bad is it?” Tony asked. 

_“The damage is extensive, but nothing you won’t be able to fix.”_

Tony nodded. He would look into it once he’d had a chance to unwind and maybe catch up on sleep. 

_“Sir?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. enquired softly a moment later. 

“Yes, J?” 

_“I am sorry I wasn’t able to prevent you from being taken.”_

Tony halted, then began folding the damp towel in his hands. “That’s alright,” he said and unfolded the towel to hang it to dry. 

_“It is not alright,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. insisted. _“I failed. I should have done more.”_

“Live and learn,” Tony replied. “I think we all underestimated him a bit.” 

_“That is a human flaw. I should be above it.”_

“Give yourself a break,” Tony ordered. 

The AI made an unhappy sound, clearly not agreeing, and Tony knew he would do more the next time they crossed paths with the Commander. _“Are you alright, sir?”_ he asked at length. _“I have noticed some… signs, as well as understood from your exchange with Captain Rogers that the Commander may have –”_

“Stop,” Tony ordered before the AI would say it. He knew J.A.R.V.I.S. didn’t understand the stigma that was associated with the word, nor would he readily grasp the sometimes-complicated matter of victim blaming and the shame that was related to being said victim. 

_“If you are injured,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. pressed. 

“I am not injured – not the way one would think, anyway,” Tony told his AI. “I am not broken. There’s nothing to put a Band-Aid on, save for the little operation Bruce performed on me.” 

_“What about another kind of injury?”_

Tony thought about that for a second, then dismissed it. “I don’t want to talk about it – and I refuse to deal with it before I’ve had a good night’s sleep.” He needed to have a level head, clear his thoughts. Everything felt strangely out of place, still, even in the familiar space, but he knew that would pass. It had to. He wasn’t going to start freaking out over this when he had barely batted an eye at three months of captivity in Afghanistan. 

Well, okay, he may have batted an eye – and then some – but he could always go and fix up Mark 43 if things started to get overwhelming. Tinkering helped, even when it wasn’t a cure-all. 

Besides, he wanted a working armor between himself and the Commander the next time they crossed paths. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	26. The Clarification

****

# Chapter 26: The Clarification

  
  


The gym was silent when Steve entered. He could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, and as the door snapped shut behind him, he felt isolated in the large area. ‘Confined’ wasn’t the word he might have used, yet bit by bit he began to feel the suffocating tension taking over him, as if the air were being sucked out and his body was starting to feel the effects. 

He dropped his shield to the floor with a loud clatter, then strode towards the other end of the room, eyes nailed to one of the punching bags innocently hanging from the ceiling. He approached the unwary target, fists poised to strike long before he was within touching distance, and the first impact of his knuckles against the bag seemed to rattle up his tense arm. 

Steve took a breath, trying to force the tension out of his body, but when it wouldn’t budge he simply opted to punch it out of his system. 

He was still wearing his uniform when he started, which made him unnecessarily hot underneath it. Piece by piece he stripped sections of it, never stopping for too long, the swinging punching bag taunting him to hit again, harder – like he meant it. 

After the serum, Steve had gotten used to punching the living daylights out of any target, but this one held together amazingly well. Tony must have designed it just for this purpose, even though Steve knew he was far from the mindset he usually achieved while training. 

Right now, he was just angry and frustrated about how things had turned out with the Commander. So far there had been no report that he had been found – dead or alive – and Steve sensed this was far from over. 

He would need a clear head the next time they came face to face. 

His attention shifted back to the bag in an attempt to channel his energy. Bottling it up wasn’t going to be helpful and would do him a disservice – 

“Did the bag make a ‘yo mama’ joke?” 

Steve froze mid-punch and looked to his right. Over his own breaths, which were coming sharp and loud, and the punching sounds, he hadn’t heard Tony come in. There he was, though, wearing worn, baggy clothes that screamed comfort, watching Steve almost warily. 

“Just working out some tension,” Steve replied, taking a decisive step back from the swinging bag. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. It was obvious he had showered recently, and Steve wondered why he wasn’t in bed; he couldn’t have found much rest during his recent ordeal. “You’re bleeding all over the place,” Tony finally commented, and Steve instinctively looked down at his hands. 

His knuckles had torn in several places, blood smearing his hands. He didn’t feel more than a slight sting of pain as he looked at the damage his body hadn’t gotten a chance to heal while he kept pounding at the bag. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asked, voice softer than Steve was used to. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Steve countered, stepping further away from the punching bag to find something to clean up his hands before Tony could complain about bloodstains on the floor. 

“Maybe,” Tony admitted. “You’re the one who’s letting his angst get the best of him, though.” 

Steve gave him a look from the corner of his eye. He was feeling cautious, although he wasn’t sure why – well, other than the obvious reasons. “Why are you here?” he asked, finding a towel inside a supply closet. His blood left dark marks on the gunmetal gray fabric and Steve wondered if it would ever come off in a wash. He noticed an embroidered ‘A’ in one corner of the towel – an insignia clearly representing the Avengers. 

Tony took his time answering the question: “I didn’t feel like crashing, oddly enough,” he said. “J.A.R.V.I.S. said you were here, feeling agitated.” 

Steve huffed at the choice of word. It wasn’t how he would have described his current mood. “I would have expected you to go in the other direction.” 

“Why?” Tony asked, stepping towards him as if to prove a point. 

“Because of what happened to you over the last two days,” Steve bit out, not wanting to say it. Tony most likely wanted to forget, and Steve didn’t want his temper to boil over because there was nothing he could do to fix it before they located the Commander again. 

“You’re still thinking I can’t tell the two of you apart?” Tony stated, slowly proceeding towards him again. “That being around you is going to be a constant reminder of him?” 

Steve swallowed and stared at an array of workout equipment on the wall, keeping his eyes from flicking over to Tony. 

“I can tell the difference,” Tony claimed sharply, his voice rising. “Look at me, Rogers.” 

It wasn’t the order, or that Steve wanted to prove him wrong; he looked at him because he knew Tony would find a way to make that happen, one way or another, and both of them were too tired to drag this out. 

Tony stared him down, jaw tense. It was as if he didn’t dare to back away even when he started to feel the inclination to do so, because it would make him reveal just how uncomfortable Steve’s presence made him. Steve let him off the hook eventually, allowing his gaze to break away. He didn’t want to upset Tony by looking completely away, though, so he checked out the rest of his body instead, looking for hidden clues of his mistreatment. 

Adding fuel to the fire… 

“He said he didn’t want to hurt me,” Tony spoke up suddenly, voice back to that soft, private level. Steve wasn’t used to hearing him talk like that – they hadn’t spent enough time together for that to happen. He was more used to bravado and attention seeking, but Tony wasn’t raising himself above everyone else right now. 

“He did, though,” Steve said in return, feeling like Tony wanted to have a conversation instead of an exchange of jabs they were more prone to deliver. 

A tight little smile passed Tony’s lips. “I made him,” he admitted. “I tried to reason with him, to find a way out that didn’t include broken bones on my part. Didn’t work, so I pressed in the other direction. He stopped playing nice, eventually. Decided that I didn’t have to like it – that I would learn to accept it over time.” 

Steve was starting to feel sick all over again. 

Tony looked into his eyes, and Steve wondered whose face he was seeing. “I wouldn’t have fought back nearly as much had it been you,” he said, gaze unwavering. 

Steve blinked and wondered whether he had sustained some kind of hearing injury during the battle. Then the floor began to fall away beneath him as his brain pieced that information together, connecting it to those unwanted images of the Commander forcing himself on Tony. “Why would you say that?!” he finally burst out, taking a step back like Tony had physically hurt him. 

Tony blinked, then shrugged, looking like it wasn’t anything inappropriate. “Felt like you needed to hear that.” 

Steve contemplated trying to throw up, just to get the impending sensation out of his system. “I would never –” 

“Oh, I know,” Tony started with a smile, then froze. “You wouldn’t?” he asked, and it was almost like hurt flashing in his eyes, which was totally inappropriate considering the topic. 

“No!” Steve proclaimed, voice a bit higher than he was comfortable with. “I could never hurt you like that.” 

Tony nodded then looked at his bare feet, which shifted uncertainly on the floor. “Great,” he murmured. “Just… needed to make that distinction, in case you were wondering.” 

“I wasn’t,” Steve reassured him, although he was starting to feel like they were approaching the subject at very different angles. “I’m sorry I didn’t defeat him,” he added, feeling like this was a good time to get it off his chest. “I should have stopped him the first time.” 

“No reason to be sorry; J already apologized, and that’s plenty enough.” 

Steve frowned. “No offense, but he’s just a program.” 

“He’s more than that,” Tony retorted, seeming to perk up a little. “Next time, it will play out differently.” 

“There won’t be a next time,” Steve swore. “I promise.” 

Tony gave him a smile that was a little patronizing. “Thanks,” he said, and it truly sounded like he was telling Steve what he wanted to hear. 

“I mean it,” Steve insisted. 

“I know,” Tony said, with a bit more honesty. “I just don’t want you to think this is all on you, or that you need to do this alone. Just because he’s your wicked double from some alternate reality doesn’t mean you’re the only one who gets to fight him. He’s not your responsibility.” 

Steve looked away, feeling a bit mulish. “How come it feels like it is?” he muttered. 

“Maybe because you know you could have ended up just like him?” Tony guessed. It startled Steve, who honestly hadn’t thought about it like that, but it didn’t seem to be a stretch for Tony. “I talked to him,” the other man said. “He told me things about his life. Not much, mind you, but enough for me to form an opinion.” 

“Which is?” Steve asked even though he wasn’t sure he would like the answer. 

“That deep down, you two are the same,” Tony said, which actually contradicted what he had claimed before – that Steve and the Commander were not the same. “He got dealt a bad hand, and that put him in a place neither of us can picture in our worst nightmares. But there’s a part of him that…” Tony halted and frowned, as if doubting himself suddenly. “I think he’s trying to reconnect with the man he used to be. I’m thinking me – the other me – was helping with that process, driving him on.” 

“He has a funny way of showing his gratitude,” Steve stated dryly. 

Tony’s answering smile spoke of years of experience. “Sometimes, you hurt the ones you love, whether you mean for it to happen or not.” He then stuck his hands in his pockets and turned around. “Try to get some sleep, Cap,” he called without looking back at him. “The fight isn’t over yet.” 

Steve watched him go, dried blood making his skin itchy and stiff. He felt a call to get back into punching the bag, to drive this conversation out of his head, but he decided to leave it. 

Gathering his gear, he headed out to the room that had been assigned to him before he ever entered the Tower, and even though sleep was the furthest thing from his mind, he knew he needed to rest and regain some semblance of control before he faced Tony again. 

Or the Commander. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	27. The Strategy

****

# Chapter 27: The Strategy

  
  


Come morning, half the team was up at the crack of dawn, getting into a safe routine of exercise that momentarily managed to drive their attention away from the big issue. Rhodey went on a run with Sam Wilson, who had tried to locate Steve before they left but wasn’t successful, so it was just the two of them. 

“I can’t imagine what this is like for Cap,” Sam noted as they paused for a drink and a bit of a stretch. 

“We’ll all be feeling a lot better now that Tony’s back,” Rhodey mused. 

Sam nodded, then gave him a look that was almost cautious. “What do you think happened between them – Tony and the Commander?” 

Rhodey felt his expression grow grim. He had laid awake most of the night, thinking about that – thinking about the things that had gone unsaid, but which were clearly there. 

Things he didn’t want to think of, because it meant someone had violated his friend in a way he didn’t know how to heal. Not that Rhodey had known how to help Tony when he came back from Afghanistan, either; to this day, he knew he had completely mishandled their conversation when Tony first pitched him the idea of the suits – not that Rhodey had known what it was all about. 

Had he approached Tony’s delicate state of mind differently that day, it might never have been Tony in that suit. 

Whether that would’ve been better or worse, he would never know. 

“Let’s head back,” he said finally, and Sam nodded. 

After they had showered and changed, they met back at the kitchen for breakfast. One by one everyone else showed up and kind of lingered, and it was obvious they were waiting for something. 

When Tony arrived, dressed not in a dress shirt and pants but worn jeans and a loose hoodie, Rhodey wondered whether he should ask if he was okay. He could see Bruce giving him that exact same look, then opening his mouth, but Tony was already scrunching up his face before a single word came out. 

Bruce shut his mouth, and Tony moved to get himself a cup of coffee, then fetched ingredients for what would be one of his power smoothies. 

Steve was the last to arrive, which seemed out of character for him, but he looked like he had gotten some shut eye so that was definitely a change for the better. 

“I think we need to sit down and have a talk,” Natasha proceeded to say once everyone had something to eat – or in the case of Rhodey and Sam, had finished their breakfast already. 

“Agreed,” Tony surprisingly accepted. He finished making his smoothie, then moved towards the sitting area and everyone else migrated there in his wake. Steve brought up the rear and seemed uncertain whether to take a seat or not until Tony gave him a look and Steve sat down meekly in the closest available spot. 

“There was no sign of the Commander, right?” Clint spoke up first. 

“Nay,” Thor replied, frowning. “Not in the tunnels, nor did we stumble upon his escape route.” 

“That’s to be expected,” Natasha sighed. “If he’s anything like Steve…” 

Rhodey spotted Steve’s face darkening a shade, but he said nothing. “We need to figure out what to do next,” he stated. “We need to find this guy, and either bring him in or take him out.” His eyes swept the group for protests, of which there were none. “What’s his next move? Does he have a Plan B, or can we expect him to keep coming for Tony?” 

“He knows we’ll be on our guard now,” Steve mused, not looking at anyone. He looked like he was focusing intensely on a single spot in the carpet, but perhaps he was just trying to think of a way to predict the Commander’s plan. 

“Maybe he’ll do the smart thing and give up,” Clint suggest half-heartedly. 

“He won’t,” Tony said slowly, and all eyes turned to him – except for Steve. Tony was also studying the floor, and Rhodey knew for a fact his brain was working hard. “His only goal – his only reason for being – is to restore what he had in his life. Apparently, that includes being with me. He’s obsessed and driven, and sees no reason why I won’t, eventually, come to see this from his point of view.” 

Tony raised his eyes, looking at the ceiling instead. “I think, however, that I know where he might be focusing his energy if gaining access to me proves too difficult.” 

“Do share,” Clint encouraged. 

Tony hesitated, eyes moving to gaze at Steve. He remained quiet until Steve raised his eyes to look back at him. “He’ll try to find Bucky Barnes,” Tony finally revealed. 

“Even we don’t know where he is,” Sam frowned. “How’s he going to find the guy?” 

“Why would you think he’ll go for Bucky?” Steve asked, as could be expected. Rhodey didn’t know every detail, but he knew the story of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ friendship – and had also seen a memo or two tying Barnes and the mythical Winter Soldier together. 

“Because in his world, the Winter Soldier killed me,” Tony explained. “If he’s trying to rebuild his life here, eliminating the potential risk of that happening again should be way up on his to-do list.” 

“Can the Commander find him, though?” Natasha asked, sounding doubtful. 

“We have no way of knowing how much the Commander knows about the Winter Soldier,” Tony said. “There’s no knowing how many similarities there are between our worlds, but unless he’s stupid enough to brave the Tower’s security system without the interference of the Tesseract’s power, that’s what his next move will no doubt be.” 

Steve nodded slowly. “It makes sense.” 

Rhodey wasn’t so sure, but he guessed that if Steve approved, and this was Tony’s take from spending time with the Commander, they should trust it. “How do we find Bucky Barnes, then?” he asked out loud. 

Steve looked at Tony, like he was holding all the answers right now. 

“With science,” Tony replied. “J, how are the search parameters coming?” 

_“Loading, sir,”_ the AI responded. _“Shall I begin the search once ready?”_

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “He may have gone to hiding, but unless he’s holed up in a bunker somewhere, I’ll find him,” he stated confidently. It wasn’t as if they had many other alternatives, Rhodey knew. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	28. The Fallback

****

# Chapter 28: The Fallback

  
  


The Commander wasn’t very pleased with himself. 

He had allowed the Avengers to track him down and take Tony from him. It was only fair he was still healing from the injuries he had sustained while escaping the collapsing tunnel; he needed a reminder of his failure aside from the emotional disappointment. 

Rationally, he knew he had mishandled his first encounter with Tony. He should have tried to be more patient, to win the man over, but there had been no time to adjust. 

He could try to make Tony happy once there were no threats to them being together, be it Avengers or someone else. 

Knowing that Tony’s team was going to close ranks around him now that they had him back, there was no way to move to reclaim him without risking a confrontation with the other Avengers. His freedom was just about the only thing Steve had right now, and he knew better than to risk losing it when the odds were stacked so badly against him. 

In the meantime, he could work towards a secondary goal; it would ensure that his future with Tony would be free of at least one threat. 

He had already seen that their worlds were not the same, but there were some risks Steve would rather not take. It was obvious he would have his hands full reining in Tony’s resistance, and he didn’t need unpredictable factors working against him. 

All things considered, it was better to ensure Bucky wouldn’t be a threat to them the way he had been in Steve’s own world. The action he was planning on taking was drastic, but it was a sacrifice he had to be willing to make to ensure that he wouldn’t be met with that same sight one day in the future, with Tony lying dead in their bed and Bucky telling him it was for Steve’s own good. 

Of course, he had no idea where to start looking for Bucky in this world. He had learned some crucial facts about him from his conversation with Tony, as well as the things Steve’s double in this world had stated, about HYDRA being gone. Obviously, Bucky – or Winter Soldier – was in the wind, and it was a daunting mission to locate him when even the people native to this world didn’t know where to begin. 

Well, that was not true: a man of Tony Stark’s intellect always had ideas, and if he put his mind to it, he would come up with a solution. 

Which meant Steve had to beat him to it, in case Tony guessed where he would be headed next. Tony might not see it as an imminent threat, but the sight of him dead was still seared into Steve’s memory, and he didn’t want to see what happened if and when Tony and Bucky crossed paths, alternative history be damned. 

He had lost Tony once, and no force in the world was going to repeat that if Steve could prevent it – pre-emptive strikes included. 

The rest of the world was collateral damage in his attempts to unite with his lover, and beyond Bucky, it was largely up to Tony how many people had to die before they were together. 

All who got in the Commander’s way… would come to regret it. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	29. The Pursuit

****

# Chapter 29: The Pursuit

  
  
****

### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


Steve stopped in front of the door leading to Tony’s work space. The slow inhale of air was meant to steady his nerves, but he still felt a certain tension in his shoulders as he released it several seconds later. So much for that… 

_“You are free to enter, Captain Rogers,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up suddenly. 

Instinctively, Steve looked up to find a camera in order to address the AI. “Thank you.” He hadn’t been waiting for permission to enter, but it was good to know he had it. 

The door slid open rather than swinging wide, and Steve stepped across the minimal threshold, trying to appear like there was nothing odd about his visit. 

There wasn’t, of course: he was here purely on Avengers business, as could be expected of him. The nervous tension was something that had been following him around since they got Tony back, and he wished he could just sweat or bleed it out of his system, then move on. He had never dwelled on anything if he had the option to soldier on. Maybe what he needed was a good distraction, and finding Bucky would be just that. 

“What’s up, Cap?” Tony called out, and Steve turned slightly towards him, trying to assume a nonthreatening pose that wouldn’t prompt Tony to tell him to relax. 

“What’s the status on locating Bucky?” he asked. It was hard to walk the line of professionalism; if possible, he would have been out there himself, trying to track down his best friend. As it happened, Avengers stuff kept interfering with that, but now that Tony was working almost solely on finding Bucky… It was hard not to feel excited and a lot more hopeful than he had before. 

“Nothing yet,” Tony reported, bringing something up on one of the screens that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Steve. “I have the search parameters in place and J.A.R.V.I.S. is working overtime to implement them.” 

_“It is my pleasure to help,”_ the AI stated, just in case anyone doubted it. _“We are making a simultaneous search for the Commander, just in case he surfaces again.”_

Steve nodded and looked at Tony. The man was cradling a piece of his suit in his lap – clearly a project he was tinkering with while the computers worked. 

“We’ll find him,” Tony told him reassuringly, clearly taking Steve’s silence for something it was not. 

“I hope so,” Steve replied, knowing he had to keep his thoughts focused on the reality of the situation instead of hoping for the best possible outcome. His eyes swept the screen again, trying to make sense of anything he found there. The numbers and digits were moving too fast, though, and he wondered if he was glimpsing J.A.R.V.I.S.’s inner workings just now. 

“The world is a lot more connected than it was in your time,” Tony told him – something Steve had learned both to appreciate and loathe since he came out of the ice. 

“Dare I ask what kind of methods you’re using to find them?” Steve mused. He had a feeling it might go against what he believed was fair play. 

Tony made a facial expression which confirmed his supposition. “I think you might be better off not knowing.” 

That answer was actually worse than Steve had expected, and he felt a sudden burst of responsibility. It was partially due to his own failures that they had to be doing this, so he should know what means exactly Tony was employing to find Bucky and the Commander. “Tell me anyway,” he said, keeping his voice firm. 

Tony looked like he would rather have not, but then he shrugged and put the armor part aside, tapping a command into a nearby keyboard that was filled with symbols Steve couldn’t imagine matched the normal keyboard layout. “As much as I hate it, I found a very useful tool in HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s leftovers: the Insight Satellites.” He brought up a graphic image of the entire planet, highlighting several satellites in orbit. 

Steve suddenly understood why Tony had felt he was better off not knowing. 

“They’re fully equipped for a search like this,” Tony went on. “After the events of D.C., I personally made sure only I have access to the satellites, to prevent future HYDRA attacks.” 

Steve nodded slowly, knowing that short of destroying them altogether, that was possibly the option he was most comfortable with. “Zola’s algorithm is gone, though – right?” He had to ask, because he had almost died – again – to stop HYDRA from fulfilling their plans, and that algorithm was something he didn’t want anyone getting their hands on, ever again. 

Tony must have heard that plea in his tone because he shifted his chair away from him, just slightly. “What was left of the algorithm is isolated on an offline drive. I’ve been going through it, and there are a few interesting things there, coding wise…” He held up a hand before Steve could protest. “I want to avoid a genocide just as badly as you do, Cap. I’m not studying the algorithm to put it into good use as it is, but simply taking viable parts to where they can be safely implemented – like looking for Barnes right now.” 

“Playing with fire is what it is,” Steve protested. 

“Not the way I’m doing it. Trust me.” 

Normally Steve would have told him he didn’t; Tony was known for taking things in a direction that other people didn’t necessarily agree with, but in their current situation, he felt like he had to cut him some slack. At least Tony had told him instead of being secretive about it. 

“I don’t need Zola’s algorithm to tell me who the enemy is,” Tony went on. “Also, predicting who’s going to be a threat one day? No one can do that for sure. Good people turn bad, given the right circumstances – just like bad people get better once they’re appropriately motivated.” 

The last part sounded a bit like Tony was talking about someone he knew, and Steve wondered who that was. The Commander, perhaps? 

Tony reached for the armor piece again, and the image of the satellites disappeared. Steve felt like it was his cue to leave, and what else was there to talk about? Certainly not the stuff they had said in the gym; that would have to wait until all this was finished, because Steve felt unbalanced as it was, and he didn’t need to add fuel to that particular fire. So, he just left the work area, Tony already refocused on his projects and not paying his exit any mind. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	30. The Hit

****

# Chapter 30: The Hit

  
  


Tony was dozing in his lab when an electronic _ping_ signaled the completion of the latest process and a need for his immediate attention. 

He had been leaning back in a chair, legs propped up on the edge of the table, and the sudden alarm made him start and almost fall off his seat as he scrambled to react to whatever the _ping_ was dedicated to; in the momentary haze, he wasn’t sure what kind of experiment he had been in the middle of, but he couldn’t smell anything strange as he sat up and looked around. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S.?” he called out in question. 

_“I believe I have located James Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier,”_ the AI replied. 

Tony felt his mind becoming fully alert. “Show me,” he said quickly, rolling towards a nearby screen. It came to life upon his approach, displaying a map and a blinking dot, then another image that seemed to be from a security camera in a back alley – perhaps installed there by an owner who had grown tired of vandalism on his property. The image was grainy, but walking through the alley was indeed the man he had been looking for; with a baseball cap on his head and the hood of his jacket pulled up, his features were mostly hidden, but the camera caught his face at a good enough angle for J.A.R.V.I.S. to process the image. 

“Any sign of our other missing person?” Tony asked as he watched Barnes keep on walking, unaware that he had been spotted. 

_“None yet, sir.”_

“Keep looking,” Tony ordered. “Prioritize on Barnes’ vicinity, just in case he’s managed to track him down.” He checked the map, noting the man’s current location. “What’s he doing in Philly?” he mused. 

_“I cannot say, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied evenly, perhaps knowing the question was largely rhetorical. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony decided. “Keep an eye on him – and tell the team to assemble,” he added with a slight smile and spun his chair around, jumping off it the moment he was facing the door. 

As he exited the lab, he heard the last of J.A.R.V.I.S.’ calm call to ‘assemble’. It created a flurry of activity, people dashing this way and that to get their gear. 

“Move the armor to the Quinjet,” Tony mused, voice low. 

_“Yes, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. responded through the nearest speakers in the hallway. 

Steve jogged up to him before Tony could make it down to the hangar. He was pulling on his uniform, shield slung over his shoulder. For a man who had been on the edge of his proverbial seat, it looked almost like he had dared to relax for a moment and was now rushing to gear up with the rest of them. “You found him?” the blond asked, wrestling his arm into the sleeve of his suit. 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “He’s in Philadelphia; we caught a live feed off a private camera. J.A.R.V.I.S. is keeping an eye on him as we speak.” 

Steve nodded, his face tense with the effort of keeping unwanted emotions from his face. He had to be excited, to be so close to getting his best friend back. “Any sign of the Commander?” 

“Not yet, and there’s a possibility there won’t be, either,” Tony mused. 

“We need to be prepared for it, though,” Steve insisted as they took off towards the stairs that would lead them to the Quinjet. 

“We are,” Tony told him. Even when no one actively brought it up, he was certain everyone was mentally acknowledging the fact that they would cross paths with the Commander, sooner or later. 

The team and their additional members had already begun to gather at the Quinjet. Bruce was the last to arrive, looking apprehensive. 

“You don’t have to join us for this one,” Tony told him before he could actively start hesitating. “We’re not going there to look for a fight, and we’ve got enough muscle as it is.” 

Bruce’s eyes took in the team, then returned to Tony. “You mean, you don’t want to risk the other guy getting out of control.” 

“I don’t think anyone wants that if it isn’t strictly necessary,” Tony reassured him. “If you want to come, that’s fine, but I can tell you would rather not.” 

“If the Commander shows up…” Bruce began. 

“He won’t, in all likelihood, and even if he does, we’ve got it covered,” Tony motioned towards Steve, Thor and Rhodey – not to mention his own suit. “The Hulk would be overkill.” 

Bruce cringed at his choice of words. “I’ll stay here and monitor,” he decided. 

“We’ll be in constant contact. J.A.R.V.I.S. will keep you informed of any developments.” 

Bruce nodded. “If the Commander does show up, play it safe,” he ordered. 

“You don’t need to tell me that,” Tony responded, voice dropping. It wasn’t him Bruce should be concerned about: Tony knew just how capable the Commander was. As it happened, Captain America in his current mindset was much more of a wild card than Tony could ever be, and wasn’t that a strange turn of events. 

Bruce stepped back, signaling that he was indeed staying at the Tower, and Tony turned to join the others in the Quinjet. Clint was already seated in the pilot’s chair, and Tony contented himself by finding another spot to sit down for take-off. 

“All aboard?” Clint called out, already moving through the pre-flight routine. 

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed. “Let’s get going before our target slips out from under our noses.” 

Across the aisle, Steve shifted, and Tony gave him a reassuring look. 

“Figure of speech, Cap,” he told him. “J.A.R.V.I.S. won’t let him slip away now that he’s been found. You may as well start coming up with good conversation openers.” 

From the look on his face, it seemed like Steve had been doing his fair share of that. Tony didn’t envy his position, trying to reconnect with his best friend whom he had thought long dead before Steve ever went into the ice himself – a friend whose recollection of his own life was challenged at best. 

At least Tony couldn’t come up with any reason why Barnes might try to kill him, the Commander’s paranoia aside. One less thing to worry about… 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	31. The Soldier

****

# Chapter 31: The Soldier

  
  
****

### Philadelphia, PA

  


The flight to Philadelphia wasn’t going to take long, but when on the trail of a man who seemed to get spooked even by his own shadow, it was hardly feasible to expect him to just stay put until they reached him. 

Tony was in the process of suiting up and had just pushed a communication device into his ear when J.A.R.V.I.S. contacted him: 

_“Sir, the target has gone indoors. I have lost visual.”_

Tony glanced at Steve, checking his expression; clearly he was not yet aware of the situation because there was no change in his light scowl of concentration. “No cameras inside the building?” he guessed, keeping his voice low. 

_“I am looking for one, but the building seems to be vacant. However, my brief search suggests the property might be a former HYDRA base.”_

“We’ll have to assume that is not a coincidence,” Tony decided and stood up, stepping over to the coffin-sized metal container that housed the armor. 

Around him, the others perked up at the movement, but aside from watching him proceed, no one moved to get up. 

Tony laid his palm against the cool steel enclosing his suit. The scanner instantly read his bio-signature and the cover peeled back, revealing Mark 45 in all its freshly-buffed glory. 

_“Still no sign of James Barnes outside the building. What would you like me to do, sir?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. questioned. 

“Stand by,” Tony ordered, checking Steve’s face once again. By now he was certain he was the only one aware of the new development, with the possible exception of Bruce. On the one hand, they had their man indoors, more contained than he would have been out on the street. But, on the other hand, what was a good HYDRA base without a few underground exists in the case of emergencies? 

There was no way Barnes could know he was being tracked, but the moment they began their approach, he might run for it. While finding him again might be easier now that they knew what continent he was on, Tony had no doubts Barnes could make it very hard for them to pinpoint his location again. 

Plus there was the Commander to consider… 

Tony rapped his fingertips against the armor’s chest, ever so lightly, but it registered the motion and moved forward as Tony stepped back, then opened up at the front. 

“What’s up?” Rhodey asked, standing up. Clearly he thought suiting up at this point was premature and took Tony’s actions as a sign that something was going on. He wasn’t wrong, of course. 

“Barnes is on the move, and seeing as the Quinjet can go only so fast, I was thinking of going on ahead and making sure he doesn’t slip away.” 

That got a reaction from Steve, but it was hard to say how exactly he felt about it. “We’re not that far out.” 

“I don’t want to risk losing him when we’re so close,” Tony responded as the suit closed around him. 

“I should come with you,” Steve said, standing up. 

“No offense, Cap, but you’ll slow me down,” Tony countered, popping open the faceplate. “I just want to ensure he’s still there when you arrive,” he reassured the man. “I’m not trying to –” He was cut off by Rhodey walking over to where War Machine was standing and getting in the armor. “What are you doing?” Tony asked. 

“Coming with you,” Rhodey said simply. “I can keep up,” he added a bit sharply. 

Steve nodded slowly, approving but not liking it. “We’ll be just a few minutes behind you.” 

Tony responded with a tiny salute, snapped the faceplate shut and then turned towards the ramp at the back of the Quinjet, Rhodey following him. They made short work of leaving the aircraft, dropping out fast to let the ramp close behind them, then they switched on the thrusters and shot up and past the Quinjet, speeding southwards. 

“Is there anything I should know?” Rhodey asked after a little bit. A tiny symbol on the HUD told Tony that their conversation was being kept between them, as if Rhodey thought Tony was hiding something from the rest of the team. 

Again, he was not wrong… 

“Barnes entered a building a while ago. J.A.R.V.I.S. can’t track him there, and the last thing we need is him taking a detour to the sewers and shaking us off,” Tony replied, knowing it would be pointless to keep Rhodey out of the loop. 

“He doesn’t know we’re onto him, right?” Rhodey asked, a frown apparent in his voice. 

“I don’t think so, but I’d rather not waste the time it would take to look for him again,” Tony replied. “We have other pressing matters to take care of.” 

Rhodey made a sound of agreement and they both accelerated slightly. Tony could have flown faster, seeing as his armor was lighter and more powerful than War Machine’s latest model, but this close to their destination it was pointless; he would need to start decelerating almost immediately to enter the city’s airspace at a safe speed. 

Once they neared their target, Tony took the lead and spiraled down between buildings, performing a perfect landing in the very same alley where they had first spotted Barnes. Rhodey copied him, a slight tremor traveling across the pavement upon his touchdown; Tony barely felt it through the suit, but the HUD registered it in front of his eyes as a micro-earthquake. 

Together they set out towards the end of the alley and the building their runaway super-soldier had entered. It was impossible to tell whether he was still inside, and Tony scanned the building as best he could, trying to get a heads-up on whether anyone was around. When the results came back cold save for a few rodents by the outer wall, he told himself it meant nothing. 

“Are we expecting trouble?” Rhodey asked through the comm. 

“Don’t know,” Tony replied honestly. 

“He’s gonna hear us coming a mile away,” Rhodey observed. “If we’re aiming for stealth, we should ditch the suits.” He didn’t sound like he was about to jump on that; there was no knowing how Barnes was going to react once they came face to face with him – not even where Steve was concerned. Last time the guy had tried – and almost succeeded – in killing Captain America, and just because it was possible he had pulled Rogers’ ass out of the Potomac didn’t mean he was going to come quietly. 

Tony had already been beaten up by a man injected with a super-soldier serum this week, and he wasn’t about to voluntarily repeat the experience if he could avoid it. 

So, the armor it was. 

They walked to the building at the end of the alley, making more than enough noise to alert their runaway if he was even remotely paying attention. It couldn’t be helped, though. 

“What is this place?” Rhodey mused once they got closer. “It’s like a bunker; reinforced walls, safety windows…” 

“An old HYDRA base – or that’s what J.A.R.V.I.S. thinks,” Tony replied, as casually as he could. Still, he could see a slight shift in Rhodey’s stance, even with the suit. 

“HYDRA?” 

“Could be a number of things,” Tony reminded him. “Information, for one. Cap said he didn’t remember a whole lot, so old HYDRA hidey-holes are probably a good place for him to start piecing things together.” 

“Or to look for something really dangerous to protect himself with,” Rhodey muttered. 

“He’s a super-soldier. Doesn’t get much more dangerous than that.” That was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, because Tony could think of a lot of things that were more dangerous than a guy with superhuman strength and agility. 

“I’ve seen the footage, Tony; this one likes his guns.” 

Tony turned to look at him pointedly, not saying anything, and saw Rhodey roll his eyes over the HUD. There were reasons why War Machine could never be as sleek as Tony’s Iron Man armors; he liked his weaponry way too much, as well as the additional girth of the suit. Tony had managed to shave it down a bit over the years, but Rhodey was always insistent on what he wanted – especially after the mess with AIM. 

They found a door a little to their left. It was locked, but that was solved with a concentrated blast of a repulsor that punched the lock straight to oblivion. Normally Tony might have kicked down the door and not bothered, but just in case Barnes hadn’t yet become spooked by their approach, there was no reason to risk it even further. 

On the inside, the building appeared empty. There was still an odd piece of furniture here and there, but mostly the place had been stripped. Nothing pointed towards the previous owners – no HYDRA symbols painted on the walls – but as Tony scanned the space from the inside, he could easily confirm Rhodey’s findings that the building had been shielded from unfriendly eyes. 

“J, can you access the floor plan?” Tony asked. 

_“Negative, sir; they seem to be missing,”_ the AI responded almost immediately. 

“Not surprising if the earlier tenants were indeed HYDRA,” Tony huffed and kept moving, stepping carefully. The floor seemed more than sturdy enough to hold the suit, nor did he see any traps, but they were still on a mission to find Barnes and it wouldn’t do to make any sudden moves. 

Especially when the man suddenly appeared in front of them in a doorway, eyes flashing as he looked from one armor to the other. 

Tony halted, as did Rhodey, and they all just looked at each other for a moment, the seconds dragging out. It was unlikely there was no other exit from the building, but Barnes’ body language was nervous, as if they were standing between him and his intended escape. 

“We’re friends,” Tony spoke up before Barnes could make a run for it. “Well, friends of a friend.” 

Clearly Barnes didn’t think he had any friends because he looked even more apprehensive if possible. 

“We’re here to help,” Rhodey offered. 

The Winter Soldier licked his lips, still moving his eyes between the two of them. Tony saw his left arm shift – the metal one – but otherwise he didn’t seem to be armed. Beneath the baseball cap, his hair was tangled and dirty, and he needed a set of clean clothes. 

Imagining that the suits of armor weren’t exactly adding to his comfort, Tony made a rash decision he knew he might come to regret very soon: he opened up the armor and stepped outside, raising his hands as Barnes jumped back slightly. “I’m not here to hurt you – but someone else is on his way, and I’m intending to take you to safety before that happens.” 

Barnes’ eyes narrowed. He wasn’t much of a talker, obviously, but at this point it would have helped to get at least a tiny peep out of him. 

“Do you know who I am?” Tony asked. It wasn’t an ego thing, but if Barnes couldn’t tell whether he was a good guy or a HYDRA member trying to pin him down, then they were in for a whole lot of trouble. 

Rhodey shifted but didn’t actually take a step, and Tony willed him to be patient while he looked at Barnes, maintaining eye-contact even though he knew it might just antagonize the other more. But, as long as Barnes wasn’t looking away, Tony saw no reason to go for an extra soft approach. 

“Stark,” Barnes finally muttered, voice rough. It didn’t sound like he had talked a lot lately. 

Tony nodded slowly. “I don’t know if you remember who you are – recently or in the past. Don’t know whether you remember Steve Rogers, either. All I need you to do is to trust me and my team for a little bit: we’re here to help.” 

Rhodey made a tiny noise of agreement, which came out a little scrambled through the sound system of the suit. 

Barnes seemed to be thinking something over, still looking ready to bolt if he had the chance. Frankly, he had the advantage here, because following someone like him, in a suit, in an urban area, was bound to be a challenge. 

“Who’s coming for me?” Barnes asked finally. “HYDRA?” His voice was blank, like he was cautious not to show emotion when it came to the people who had mutilated and brainwashed him. 

“Kind of,” Tony admitted. “It’s complicated and somewhat confusing.” 

Barnes nodded slowly, as if there was nothing overly complicated about it. Perhaps there wasn’t, in his head – not until he came face to face with the Commander. Tony could see how that would be a bad idea, especially if Barnes still missed his connection to Steve and their past together. Talk about getting off on the wrong foot… 

“The Avengers are not your enemy,” Tony assured him, in case that was necessary. “At least, as long as you behave,” he added, which perhaps was a mistake, come to think of it. 

Barnes just snorted at his comment. Perhaps he had heard that one before – and got burned. Maybe he felt like he was outnumbered and he had no choice but to come with them. 

Whatever the reason, Tony was mildly shocked when Barnes stepped forward slowly, checked out the suits again, then Tony, and finally adjusted the cap on his head. “Are we going or what?” he asked, and Tony imagined that was some of the cockiness of the Bucky Barnes Steve used to hang out with. It didn’t match the general demeanor of the man before them, but Tony wasn’t going to let their good fortune pass; he turned slightly, motioning for Rhodey and his suit to lead the way out, and then took off after them, fully aware of how Barnes was trailing him every step of the way. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	32. Rematch

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# Chapter 32: The Rematch

  
  
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### New York City air space, NY

  


Watching without actually looking was an art form he had perfected. However, trapped in an aircraft and surrounded by seven people – most of whom seemed extremely interested in him – it was hard not to be caught. 

Bucky was beginning to doubt whether going along with this had been wise. 

Instinctively, his eyes searched for Tony Stark, who was standing beside his red-and-gold suit, talking to the pilot of the other one. Iron Man and War Machine… The time away from HYDRA had been stressful and filled with uncertainty, but Bucky hadn’t wasted it. He was no longer HYDRA’s asset. He’d had a life, once, and piecing the little morsels of information together had given him some idea of who he was. 

“Bucky…” 

He shifted his eyes and looked at Steve – Steven Grant Rogers, his best friend from the time before. Bucky was keenly aware he knew him, but despite that it was hard to relax and lower his guard. It always felt like Steve wanted something from him, and Bucky wasn’t sure what that was, exactly. 

“Chill, Cap,” Tony mused from the other side of the cabin. “I think he’d appreciate a bit of space.” 

Bucky’s eyes drifted to check Steve’s expression, which was somewhat dejected. Yes, it was painfully obvious he wanted something from Bucky. 

Steve finally nodded and took a step back even though it didn’t really move him all that far away. 

Bucky could feel Tony checking him out, as if to see whether he was thankful for the intervention. He met the man’s gaze but didn’t offer more by way of a reaction, refusing to give him the pleasure. 

Stark men were full of themselves, as it were; they didn’t need anyone else to inflate their ego. 

So far, Tony hadn’t been how he’d imagined. Bucky wasn’t sure why that was, or what exactly he had been expecting, but it felt like there wasn’t enough _ego_ in the things Tony said and did. Was he holding back? Pretending to be something he wasn’t? He wasn’t that afraid of Bucky, nor should he, with his suit hovering at his side. Sure, Bucky could make more than a dent in it, but he knew Iron Man was a considerable opponent. 

As long as he disabled the pilot before he got inside the suit of armor… 

Bucky looked away, reminding himself that it might not become necessary. There had been no obvious hostilities against him, and Tony had said they were trying to protect him, whatever that meant. 

Even so, it didn’t hurt to be prepared. 

“How long before we reach the Tower?” Steve called out towards the cockpit. 

“About five minutes; I’ll be starting the final approach soon,” the pilot called back towards them. 

Steve nodded, then looked at Tony. “Any sign of the Commander?” 

“None,” Tony replied. His body stiffened somewhat, and Steve’s stance was one of uneasy tension; Bucky knew that without thinking, and didn’t question it. The things he sensed about Steve Rogers hadn’t led him astray. They confused him, yes, and drove him to search his own past even when he might have preferred to leave it alone, but piece by piece he was getting it all back. 

Even the things he hadn’t known he had been happy to forget. 

His shoulder ached with pain that came and went, a phantom sensation of a limb long gone and replaced. 

He must have moved because Tony’s eyes turned back towards him, unmistakably checking out the metal arm. Bucky knew interest when he saw it, and it made him somewhat uneasy. Just because he often disliked the arm didn’t mean he could survive without it, a crucial part of his defense. 

“Who’s the Commander?” he asked, to take the attention away from the mechanical limb. 

It definitely worked: Steve shifted and Tony sighed, looking away. 

“That’s the guy who’s after you – and us, to an extent,” Tony explained, staring at a wall. 

“He’s HYDRA?” Bucky guessed. 

“Sort of,” Tony said, in the exact same tone as in the old HYDRA base where he and his friend had found Bucky. 

“It’s complicated,” Bucky murmured. 

“It is,” Steve agreed. “He’s not from this world – literally.” 

Bucky blinked while he waited for someone to elaborate. Apparently, his lack of actual reaction surprised the others. So, he shrugged. “You work for HYDRA long enough – or against them – and you get used to stuff that isn’t normal,” he explained. 

Steve nodded slowly. Back in the day, they had seen some stuff – stuff that Bucky didn’t always remember, but he was fairly certain they’d had their fair share of weird even before HYDRA took him. 

“The Commander is from an alternate world, where HYDRA located Cap’s plane before S.H.I.E.L.D. did,” Tony explained. “From that point on, I think you can relate to his story, so I’ll save you the details of his downfall. Nowadays, they call him the Commander.” 

Bucky frowned and sat straight. “The Commander is… Steve?” 

Tony had explained it pretty plainly; what made Bucky hesitate was actually saying Steve’s name out loud, after all this time. It felt strange. 

Obviously, Steve didn’t like that fact about their enemy, his face twisting with disgust and loathing. “We have very little in common,” he snapped, like it physically hurt him to even admit they may have been the same guy back in the day. 

Come to think of it, picturing Steve Rogers as something HYDRA had twisted was almost impossible to imagine. Maybe the two of them weren’t made of the same stuff after all… 

Or maybe Bucky had to be realistic and admit that with enough time, anything could happen. 

He looked at Tony for a confirmation of some sort, and while Steve’s feelings were an open book, Tony was far more guarded. Wary. Once again, it didn’t fit Bucky’s mental image of the cocky superhero, and he wondered what it was about the Commander that put everyone so on edge. 

The aircraft dipped slightly, probably arching in preparation to land. Bucky braced himself, feet square against the floor, and Tony reached out to steady himself on his armor’s shoulder. Steve merely shifted his stance, not reaching out for extra support. He looked relieved that they were finally reaching their destination, however. 

Bucky decided he liked it better when Steve wasn’t on edge; it made it easier for Bucky to relax a bit, even though he couldn’t drop his guard in the situation he was in. It was tiring to be on full alert for long periods of time, though, so a bit of a respite was welcome. 

They were still banking left when suddenly there was a loud bang against the hull of the aircraft. Tony jumped at the sound, turning towards it, and it was clear the sound was not part of the landing routine. 

Bucky’s eyes slid across the wall where the sound had come, and he imagined he saw a slight dent in the metal, quite narrow and less than ten inches in length. 

“No way,” the pilot began – then jerked the controls hard enough to make everyone lose their balance. Bucky’s metal arm dug into a nearby support beam on the wall, fingers digging into the metal, barely keeping himself on his seat. 

Before anyone could ask what was going on, there was a resounding explosion, and the aircraft began to sink towards the ground. The wings must have been still attached to the rest of it because they didn’t plummet down wildly, but there was very little grace in their fall. 

Bucky fought back the instinctive nausea as the aircraft tilted to the side and almost rolled over, but the pilot was still gripping the controls and managed to keep the belly facing down, albeit with difficulty. 

As Bucky adjusted his grip and hung on, he spied the red-and-gold armor bracing itself on nearby fixtures with one hand, the other curled around Tony’s body, keeping him from plummeting across the ship’s interior like most of the other occupants of the aircraft. 

“Thor!” Steve bellowed. “Get out there.” 

The long-haired man in near-medieval attire nodded and fought to get upright, but just then there was another explosion and the aircraft tilted, sending him crashing down, his heavy hammer banging against the floor. 

A section of the hull tore off with the second explosion, and suddenly someone was climbing inside the aircraft, despite their continued descent from the sky. The first thing Bucky’s eyes caught was the shield, identical to Steve’s albeit differently painted. He then checked the face, finding familiarity in it despite the massive scarring. 

The Commander. 

Tony’s armor perked up upon the man’s unexpected entrance, firing up its engines and letting go of its supporting hold on the wall. Tony let out a yelp, gravity and the falling aircraft making it impossible for the suit to fly – especially with its pilot still clinging to the outside. However, flying seemed to be secondary in the armor’s priorities because it raised its free hand, palm forward, and blasted the Commander. The aim was meant for his face, but the shot caught him in the shoulder instead. 

“J, I need to get inside,” Tony yelled over the noise of the failing engines and the wind that was increasing within the interior of the aircraft. 

The armor halted then shifted again, clearly trying to find some way to stabilize itself long enough to let Tony crawl inside. 

The Commander, briefly knocked off his feet by the blast, dug into a pocket of his pants for something. 

“No, you don’t!” Steve yelled and launched himself at the man, forgoing the use of his shield in order to get his hands on the Commander. 

Over the noise, Bucky thought someone shouted something about bracing themselves – just before they finally hit the ground. The aircraft bounced up and then down again, sliding to a screeching and rather violent halt; sounds of bending metal and breaking glass chorused the final leg of their journey before they came to a full stop. 

The Commander pushed himself up with a growl, a fist flying towards Steve’s face. At the last second Steve dodged, narrowly missing the full impact and merely getting his cheek grazed, his own hand already poised to return the favor. 

Bucky moved away from the wall, keeping low. He didn’t know what the Commander wanted with him, but the longer he studied the two near-identical men fighting, the less thrilled he was about the prospect of facing him. Sure, he would make a stand if he had to, but the Commander was a formidable opponent. 

Faint mechanical clicks preceded another blast of light, this time aimed at the Commander’s feet, unbalancing him and allowing Steve to land a solid punch. The Commander reeled back, still in the fight, but as Iron Man strode across the debris of the aircraft, now in full battle mode, he clearly took a second to consider his options. 

“You are surrounded!” Thor bellowed, also getting to his feet, hammer in his hand. 

“Perhaps,” the Commander noted, speaking up for the first time, and his voice brought back memories Bucky had of a different man. Not this twisted creature… 

“Surrender,” Thor demanded, striding closer. 

“Why don’t you show me what you’ve got, Asgardian?” the Commander challenged, raising his shield. 

Thor shifted his hammer and it began to spark with growing static. 

“Don’t!” Tony yelled and raised his hand. “You fire it up here and most of our team will end up electrocuted.” 

Thor growled but relaxed his hold on his weapon somewhat, the electric lightshow fading back into the metal. 

The Commander gave Tony a look. “You’re learning, yet unwilling to make the necessary sacrifices; he could have disabled me with a good blast, and you’re protected inside your armor.” 

“I’ll find another way to take you down,” Tony replied. 

The Commander smiled. “I’m sure.” 

“Weren’t you boasting about how you were able to defeat Iron Man, the first time we met?” Steve snapped. Clearly, he didn’t like the other two interacting, and rather obviously began to make his way between them. 

“Oh, I did,” the Commander replied. “But it was never a one-sided fight. Had it been, we never would have had time to… get to know each other.” There was something odd in the way he said it, Bucky decided. “He was an opponent worthy of every clash we had, and it could have always gone either way.” 

“But I’m not him,” Tony noted. 

“No, you’re not,” the Commander agreed. “That is why I’m confident I can best you in the end.” 

Tony’s answering snort was audible even through the speakers of the suit. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Steve stated. His body language suggested he was about to rush into another fist-fight with the Commander. Bucky didn’t remember him being this hostile; the Steve he remembered reacted to the situation and took care of it, but rarely instigated a fight if things could be resolved another way. Well, not counting the back-alley scuffles… When lives other than his own were at stake, Steve’s attitude changed. Right now, though, it felt like he was facing yet another bully on the streets of Brooklyn. 

“Guys,” War Machine’s pilot called out. “We have men down.” 

Steve didn’t seem to hear, but Tony did: “The team comes first, Cap,” he said. 

“Since when?” Steve snapped, eyes never leaving the Commander. 

“When did it stop being your priority?” Tony challenged. 

“I’m taking him down,” Steve growled, taking a step towards the Commander. “I’m tired of the chase.” 

The Commander didn’t say anything, merely adjusted his shield. 

“While I would normally agree, Captain, I must put our fellow Avengers first,” Thor mused unhappily. “We will fight him another day.” 

“Go help the others; I’ll handle him,” Steve went on mulishly. 

“We just crashed down in the middle of the street,” Tony said sharply. “There’s no knowing how many people got injured as a result of the fall.” His armored head turned towards the Commander. “We’ll let him walk this time.” 

“No –” 

“Yes, we will. This one is my call,” Tony snapped. 

“You can’t just let him walk away!” Steve exclaimed, turning to face Tony. 

“Watch me,” Tony growled back. 

“What if I don’t walk away?” the Commander asked. 

The suit whirred softly as Iron Man turned towards him. “The odds are against you, Commander. If we start to brawl on the street, I swear you’ll have the Hulk pounding your skull into the pavement in twenty seconds flat.” His words hung heavy in the air. “Next time, we fight to the end. No distractions,” he promised. 

“And the winner takes all,” the Commander replied, sounding like he was in total agreement all of a sudden. Maybe the threat of the Hulk was enough to shake some sense into him. 

“We’re not letting him walk,” Steve protested again and moved forward in an intended attack. 

Bucky moved out of his spot, grabbing onto Steve before he could get within striking distance of the Commander. 

The Commander started slightly, clearly not having noticed him earlier. Their eyes met, briefly, but then Tony stepped forward, cutting between them. 

“Take it or leave it,” Tony said, voice almost too low to hear. “Either you go, or we’ll have at it right now, and I guarantee you’re not walking away from it.” 

The Commander took a slow, precise step back. “Be careful with that one,” he said, nodding towards Bucky. “He killed you once.” 

“It wasn’t him, and it wasn’t me,” Tony replied. 

The Commander moved backwards out of the tear in the side of the aircraft, keeping an eye on them in case of a surprise attack. Once he was gone, there was a collective sigh of relief – save for Steve, who groaned in frustration. 

“He didn’t seem so tough,” Bucky commented, to lighten the mood. 

“He’ll be back,” Steve grunted, pulling against Bucky’s hold and then looking at him when he didn’t let go. 

“At least it will spare us the time needed to go looking for him,” Tony commented, then moved towards the gaping hole in the wall. “I’ll start mapping out the destruction outside. Check on the others.” His voice was tight once again, as if there were excess tension in his body. 

Bucky decided there was more to the Commander and his relationship with the Avengers than he had first guessed. 

“I’m fine,” Steve murmured, and Bucky slowly let go of him, still keeping an eye on his movements in case he decided to bolt after the Commander. He didn’t, though, instead heading towards the front of the aircraft, and Bucky remained standing where he was. 

“The Commander is a man of conviction and intense focus,” Thor mused. “That makes him a formidable opponent.” 

Bucky nodded slowly. 

“Next time,” Thor went on, swinging his hammer into the palm of his left hand with a meaty thud, “we will catch him.” 

They could have caught him today, but it felt almost like Tony had preferred to let him go. Whether it was to protect innocent bystanders and injured teammates, or something completely different, Bucky didn’t know. 

If it was the latter, he knew he would have to be on his guard, because it would spell trouble later on. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	33. The Resolution

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# Chapter 33: The Resolution

  
  
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### New York metropolitan area

  


Steve stalked into the abandoned building he had selected as his shelter for the duration of his rest. He was still amped up from the attack on the Quinjet – a daring maneuver high in the air, just as the aircraft was aligning for a landing. A slight slip of concentration would have led to him falling to the pavement and instant death, despite the super-soldier serum. 

He hadn’t missed, of course. He had downed the aircraft as planned, and gotten within touching distance of Tony, but the situation had played out a bit differently than he had expected. 

His frustration peaked. To be so close to his goal, yet ultimately fail… 

Had his resolve become weak? 

Was he losing sight of his goal? 

He growled and punched a wall, plaster falling off his knuckles as he drew his hand back. A mild pain radiated up his forearm, fading away before it could reach his elbow. 

It was nothing compared to the pain he had felt when he stepped out of the shower and found Tony lying on the bed, dead, blood soaking into the sheets. 

Frankly, he hadn’t felt pain in that moment. Up until that day, his emotions concerning Tony Stark hadn’t been entirely clear, but Bucky’s actions had sharpened the image to painful clarity. It was cruel that he had to lose the man he wanted before he even knew that the desire was coming from something other than a physical need and the thrill of passion. 

When he seized the Tesseract, he had only one goal in mind. There was no question it was his iron will that had brought him here, and his failure to take hold of what he had come for… 

He couldn’t afford to be soft again. Tony had always been smart, and getting off on the wrong foot had made them enemies again. 

Steve either had to start it all from the beginning, or find a way to recapture Tony and prove to him that they belonged together. That Steve was the partner he had chosen in another life, and would again… 

Their last encounter gave him hope: Tony had allowed him to leave without a fight. Sure, there had been threats concerning their next encounter, but clearly Steve’s intentions had been made clear and some of it was sinking in. Tony was beginning to hesitate, swayed from his belief that Steve’s experiences were a fantasy. 

Perhaps he should have factored in the possibility that his alter ego had never shown interest in Tony; breaking Tony out of the belief that Steve Rogers could never be more than his friend and teammate should have been his first step, but patience was not one of his virtues. By now he had lost the chance for a gentle approach, so discarding subtlety in favor of convincing Tony was the only way to go. 

Forcing him would have been ideal, but Steve knew that wouldn’t be real. Tony had to want it, eventually, or it would be a continuous fight between them. As thrilling as that was, it wasn’t what Steve ultimately desired. 

Should he able to go back in time and reconsider the other Tony’s offer to ditch the mission and walk away from HYDRA… in hindsight, he would have done it. 

They could have had it all… 

He looked at the wall again, measuring it with his eyes, debating the wisdom of a few more punches. 

Deciding against it, he walked further inside and then sank to the floor to get some resemblance of rest. 

If it were up to him, he would get it all back. Who was going to stand in his way? 

He closed his eyes and envisioned Tony’s lips against his unscarred cheek, whispering to him that he could do anything if he set his mind to it. 

Tony had meant leaving HYDRA and reclaiming his old title of Captain America, of course, but Steve didn’t see why he couldn’t focus that strength on crushing the Avengers in this world if they chose to stand in his way. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	34. The Wait

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# Chapter 34: The Wait

  
  
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### Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY

  


Part of their team was still working to clean up in the aftermath of the attack; Tony and Rhodes with their suits, as well as Thor. Steve had tried to be present, but he could admit to being distracted by Bucky hovering in the shadows, and eventually the team consensus was that he should get indoors with their guest. 

Away from the smoking wreckage of the Quinjet, Steve felt no more at ease; he finally had Bucky at his side, but he felt at a loss as to how to handle it. At least Bucky didn’t seem hell bent on fighting him this time, instead sitting on the edge of the couch on the second level of the common area, eyes keeping watch on people who kept coming and going at first, then stopped coming at all as if realizing it was best to avoid the vast space for now. 

Steve remained standing next to the couch, too restless to sit down just yet. He wished he knew what to say or do. Bucky was on his guard, which he wanted to lessen, but at the same time Steve didn’t want to accidentally make it worse and have him bolt. 

He wondered what exactly Tony and Rhodes had said or done to convince Bucky to come with them. There had been no fight, excessive use of force, or threats as far as Steve knew, and it boggled his mind somewhat. He refused to admit he was a bit jealous of it being so easy for someone else to reel Bucky in; the results were what mattered. 

Silence hung heavy between them. Steve tried out different openings in his head, but he could see all of them ending somewhere between a strained discomfort and a minor disaster. 

It was Bucky, eventually, who spoke up first: “So, that was the Commander.” He didn’t look at Steve as he said it – looking away quite pointedly, in fact, and Steve worried about that until he realized Bucky was staring at Steve’s reflection on the metallic wall paneling. 

“Yes,” Steve confirmed, snapping himself out of it and trying to make it look like he hadn’t noticed Bucky was watching him. 

“He’s…” Bucky started, frowning. “He’s not like you, exactly.” 

“He’s nothing like me,” Steve corrected, a bit more heatedly than he would have liked. 

This time, Bucky shifted his head and looked directly at him. Steve was worried he was seeking to point out the Commander was Steve, no matter the superficial differences, and he knew he would have to let it go because they had been the same guy, once, a _very_ long time ago. 

“Tony has history with him,” Bucky said instead. 

Steve’s brain jumped from defensive to outraged. “He does,” he replied with a nod. He could feel his facial muscles tightening at the reminder, shoulders tensing. His body still ached from the fall and the fight, yet he wished he had hit the Commander harder. 

Bucky kept looking at him, clearly expecting a broader explanation, but when Steve didn’t offer one, he chose to go on: “He said I killed Tony.” 

Steve let out a breath. “In his world, you did. That doesn’t mean anything here.” 

“Is that why he was coming after me?” 

Steve told himself not to be surprised; Bucky had always been quick on the uptake. Now more than ever, Bucky needed to be able to adapt, if he wanted to survive and keep away from those who were after him. 

“That’s what we believe,” Steve verified. “He’s hell bent on making this world match his old one.” 

Bucky looked thoughtful and turned his head to look out the window. They were high up above the street, but there were still wisps of smoke drifting up from the crashed Quinjet below. “Was Iron Man working for HYDRA in that other world?” 

“No.” 

“But I was?” 

“Yes.” Steve didn’t like saying it, as if it doomed Bucky somehow. They weren’t responsible for how the other universe had turned out. Of course, that didn’t mean Steve wouldn’t feel personally responsible for containing the Commander and stopping his rampage. 

“I guess it really is complicated,” Bucky murmured then and looked at his hands – one flesh, the other metal. 

Steve’s stomach clenched. “He’s mad. That’s all we need to know.” 

Bucky snorted. “It’s all black and white with you, isn’t it?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond to that – hadn’t expected Bucky to be this familiar with him. 

“It’s all shades of gray with Tony,” Bucky went on. “He let the Commander walk away.” 

“He made a choice to put his people first.” In any other case, Steve might have done the same, but this was the Commander they were talking about. 

“You didn’t want to let him go,” Bucky guessed. 

Steve shook his head. “Not after what he’s done.” 

Bucky looked at him again, waiting for clarification. 

“The Commander kidnapped Tony a few days ago,” Steve told him, feeling like Bucky deserved to have things put into perspective. He was in this mess with them, and it was unfair to keep facts from him – especially with the Commander potentially targeting him as well. “He hurt Tony,” he went on, and the familiar tide of shame washed over him. As if he were responsible… 

“He didn’t seem too badly hurt,” Bucky said. 

“No,” Steve agreed. “He’s covering it up, mostly. And…” He bit his lip, then flinched slightly as he drew blood. 

“Tell me,” Bucky said. “I need to know why you hate him so much if you want me to fight him with you.” 

There was so much in that single sentence Steve would have been thankful for, if not for the shame and anger he continuously felt when he thought of what the Commander had done to Tony… 

“When the Commander first appeared here,” he started, nodding towards the area on the lower floor that was still a bit of a mess from the sudden entrance and the following fight, “he proclaimed that he and Tony had been involved in his world. Then his Tony was killed, and the Commander sought to replace him. Realizing things were different here didn’t exactly deter him, and he managed to grab Tony.” 

Bucky surveyed the destroyed area with renewed interest. “You fought him,” he guessed. 

“I did, as well as one of Tony’s suits.” 

Bucky made a small sound at the back of his throat. “Must have pissed you off to lose like that.” 

“I failed to protect Tony,” Steve agreed, feeling the already familiar weight reacquaint itself within his chest. “We looked for him for a few days, then caught their trail and rescued him.” 

“Something happened while the Commander had Tony with him,” Bucky guessed. 

“Tony had no interest in what the Commander wanted,” Steve said, trying not to let his mind go too deep into the memories but it was hard – perhaps even more so in the aftermath of Tony’s odd confession after they got him back. Steve still had no idea how to deal with that. “The Commander wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” he finished, the pressure in his chest turning into ice. “He raped Tony, I’m sure of that. And still Tony let him walk away today.” 

Bucky was silent, digesting the information. Steve let him, mostly because he could use a minute or two to sort through his own emotions in order to reach some kind of plateau. 

“Do you want to kill him for what he did?” Bucky asked at length. 

“Yes,” Steve replied, the answer escaping him almost reflexively. 

“Really, Cap?” Tony’s voice cut through the room suddenly, and both men turned to look at him; how he had managed to enter without either of them noticing was shocking. Tony was scowling at Steve, then stepped out of the elevator that had brought him up to them. There was usually a soft _ding_ involved when the elevator reached a new floor, but Steve suspected it either wasn’t working or had been disabled in order for Tony to reach them unnoticed. 

“He’ll answer for his crimes,” Steve stated firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I get that, and I agree – but talking about killing him so casually isn’t what you’re about,” Tony countered. 

“Maybe you don’t know me that well,” Steve challenged him. 

Tony stared him down, unrelenting, then glanced at Bucky. “Captain Loudmouth here shouldn’t have told you all that,” he said. 

Bucky shrugged. “It clarifies things. I take it the rest of the team doesn’t know?” 

“Some of them suspect, I’m sure,” Tony admitted. “It doesn’t change things much, though.” 

Steve drew a sharp breath. “How can you say that?!” 

Tony turned to look at him. “It may change things for me, but the rest of you aren’t part of it.” 

There were so many ways Steve wanted to prove him wrong, but he wasn’t certain whether it was his place to comment. Tony had his own way of dealing with all this, and denial was probably a big part of it – as was belittling the things he had been forced to endure. 

Bucky was watching the two of them intently, as if gaining more information each time one of them spoke up. Steve felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but Tony didn’t even seem to notice. It was strange, seeing as Bucky was Steve’s best friend and a complete stranger to Tony; their places should have been reversed. Maybe it was the shame and guilt weighing him down, with the knowledge that Bucky was now aware of where Steve’s failure to capture the Commander in the first place had led them. 

“He isn’t you,” Tony said finally, repeating the words he had told Steve more than once. “He isn’t your responsibility any more than he is mine, or someone else’s. It isn’t your fault what he chose to do to me – or that I let it happen.” 

Steve felt sick again. “What choice did you have?” he asked. “He would have just hurt you worse.” 

“Maybe that would have been better than just taking it,” Tony shrugged, as if indifferent, but Steve knew they were scraping far deeper than the surface; Tony was letting him see the core of the dilemma – the issue that any one of them would have faced if put in his place. 

“I’m glad you didn’t fight him more,” Steve finally said, voice dropping low. He wasn’t sure he wanted to say those words out loud – to accidentally imply he condoned what had happened. 

A tiny smile flitted across Tony’s lips. “I’m all about self-preservation.” 

Steve snorted, knowing how much that wasn’t true. Sure, he knew Tony to be selfish to a fault, but he had also seen him ready to throw his life away to save strangers. Tony was just as ready to lay down on the wire as Steve was. “You lived to fight another day – to take him down and make him pay.” 

Tony’s expression morphed into a frown once more. “You seem awfully interested in giving him what you think he deserves.” 

“And you’re not,” Bucky commented from the side. “Just an observation,” he added with raised hands when Tony twisted around to look at him. 

“I’m not saying he should get away with the things he’s done,” Tony started, voice tight. “He’s rotten and capable of hurting people without his moral compass so much as twitching.” 

“But?” Steve pressed. He wanted to know where Tony’s leniency towards his abuser came from so that he could predict it next time and possibly avoid it entirely. 

Tony looked at him again, probably knowing Steve was the one he needed to convince; Bucky was simply observing, just as he had said. “For all the darkness and twisted morals, he used to be a good guy – and I think he was finding the light at the end of the tunnel again, before all this happened.” 

Steve couldn’t believe it, but it explained Tony’s recent reaction. “You pity him,” he uttered with a moderate amount of disbelief coloring his words. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Tony backpedaled. 

“You think you can make him good again,” Steve pressed. 

“No!” Tony snapped. “I’m just trying to point out he might have the capacity to change before he’s put down like a rabid dog.” 

Steve took a tiny step back, trying to control his emotions. “He raped you,” he said, the ugly word passing his lips like venom. “If he’s capable of doing that to someone he claims to care about, I don’t care what his other redeeming qualities are.” 

Tony blinked and looked away, actively avoiding his stare for the first time since he came into the room. “He’s lost,” he murmured, almost too low to hear. “He lost the one thing that made him want to fight HYDRA.” 

“You’re not him,” Steve said, his emotions sobering slightly. He reached out, carefully touching Tony’s arm, prepared for the other man to flinch away from him. He was surprised when that didn’t happen. Instead, the touch prompted Tony to look at him again, eyes wide and expression tortured with indecision. “Just as I’m not the Commander, you’re not the Tony Stark he knew. You’re not responsible for saving him from himself – especially not after what he did.” 

“But if I could?” Tony questioned. “Shouldn’t I try to help him?” 

“I don’t think he wants your _help_ ,” Steve responded. “He just wants _you_.” 

Tony swallowed, clearly agreeing with that statement on some level; he must have seen proof of it while he was with the Commander. 

Bucky was still looking at them, searching for hidden messages no doubt, and Steve wondered what he saw. Self-conscious all of a sudden, Steve allowed his hand to fall from Tony’s arm, and that seemed to snap the other man out of the moment as well. 

“Get cleaned up and check on the injured,” Tony ordered. “We need to step up our game and finish this.” Then he walked back to the elevator and got in, not meeting Steve’s gaze again. 

Steve looked at Bucky once the elevator had stopped at the floor where Tony’s armory was located. “Do you need something?” he asked. “Food, clothes, some shut-eye?” 

Bucky gave him a wry smile and stood up. “All of the above, I think – but I’ll start with food.” 

Steve nodded, agreeing. “Kitchen’s this way,” he motioned and led the way down the stairs. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	35. The Plan

****

# Chapter 35: The Plan

  
  


Slowly, the team gathered on the second level of the common room which overlooked the arrival spot of the Commander. Clint had his left wrist in a thick wrap and a fresh white bandage covering half of his forehead; Sam was limping, and even Natasha couldn’t hide a hitch in her step. Rhodey had been protected by his armor and quick reflexes, surviving with only a few scrapes just like the rest of them. 

Tony had checked his armor and decompressed for a moment before the meeting he knew was going to happen sooner rather than later. His conversation with Steve had opened some wounds he had thought he had stitched shut; it wasn’t traumatic so much as bothersome, and the more he circled the moral questions the topic raised, the more frustrated he felt. 

There was no easy solution, no formula to follow. People were unpredictable and irrational, and that was why Tony was a man of science rather than a humanist; there was only so much he could manipulate when it came to other human beings. Machines, however, never failed to follow logic. 

When everyone had arrived, including Bucky Barnes, there was a brief silence during which everyone was waiting for someone else to begin. 

Knowing how radical Steve’s thoughts had been just an hour ago, Tony took it upon himself to open the floor for discussion: “We need to locate the Commander and contain him.” It brought nothing new to the table, but it was a start. Also, ‘contain’ was a very politically correct word to use when they didn’t have an exact goal in mind. 

“The sooner the better,” Rhodey agreed. “The more bodies he leaves behind, the less eager the government will be to let us handle it on our own.” 

“I don’t imagine we want to explain at length how an evil copy of Captain America showed up on our doorstep,” Clint agreed. 

“They would put him in some lab and cut him up,” Bruce predicted, looking uneasy. His eyes searched the people around him. “We can’t let that happen,” he added. 

“We won’t,” Tony reassured him. 

“That’s a concern for another time,” Rhodey said, trying to soften their resolve. 

“We need to be aware of that before it becomes topical,” Tony argued. “They can’t cut up Captain America to figure out the secrets of the original super-soldier serum, but should they be presented with an exact copy to spare…” He glanced at Steve, to make sure he was backing up him and Bruce, and it looked like he wasn’t thrilled by the notion of the Commander ending up as someone’s lab rat despite his willingness to kill the man. 

“In the wrong hands, that could be disastrous, so it’s better to play it safe,” Steve agreed. 

Rhodey nodded slowly, falling in line with the rest of them. He was perhaps thinking of unlocking the secrets within Steve Rogers’ body in order to cure diseases and create new super-soldiers for their country to deploy against their enemies, but Tony knew from experience that such an asset would end up in the wrong hands before long. Look at Bucky, for instance. 

“We need a way to find the Commander if we want to catch him – and make sure the final confrontation takes place someplace where we control the area,” Natasha said, moving the conversation forward. 

“If we allow him to dictate where we cross paths, it will play in his favor,” Steve countered. 

“Let’s set him a trap, then,” Tony decided. “He’ll come to us, when and where we want him to, and we’ll have the advantage.” 

“He’ll know it’s a trap from a mile away,” Steve noted. 

“Then we’ll use bait he can’t resist,” Tony shrugged. 

Steve’s eyes flew at Bucky, which was kind of adorable. Tony barely managed to not roll his eyes. 

“As attractive as Barnes may be in his eyes, it’s not as good as the thing he’s really after,” he clarified his intentions. 

This time Steve’s eyes landed on the real prize, locking with Tony’s. “You’ve got to be kidding.” 

Tony spread his arms. “Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but we’ve got the one thing he wants more than anything.” 

“He’ll know it’s a trap,” Rhodey agreed with Steve’s earlier statement. 

“I’m counting on him wanting me more than he wants to be free,” Tony said, trying not to sound smug. “He’ll risk his freedom if he thinks he has a shot at getting his hands on me.” 

“No,” Steve argued. 

“He’ll come –” 

“I know he will – I know I would – but that’s not what I mean,” Steve snapped. “We’re not doing this, dangling you in front of him and hoping he doesn’t outwit us.” 

“That’s not your call to make,” Tony countered. “We need to catch him, and if we don’t lure him out, this game we’re playing will keep on going until someone slips up – and I don’t think it will be him.” The Commander had issues with patience, but he was smart. Steve Rogers was a master of strategy and creative thinking when it came to outsmarting the problem in front of him, and eventually the Commander would find a way to get to Tony when they weren’t ready. 

As much as he disliked the idea of putting himself out there, Tony knew it was the only way to draw the Commander out of hiding in an environment they could control. They just had to tread the fine line where the Commander would think he had a chance at getting him so that they wouldn’t scare him away. 

“We’re not doing it,” Steve kept arguing. “We’ll think of another way.” 

“I hate to say it, Cap, but Stark’s got a point,” Sam spoke up. “We need to be one step ahead, prepared for anything, and that requires us to know all the elements; if the Commander chooses the battlefield, that will never happen. We need some bait, and we all know what he’s after.” He glanced at Tony, face grim. Going against Steve clearly wasn’t his first call, but the lack of protests from around the sitting area spoke volumes. 

Steve looked around, trying to get someone to back him up. Bruce looked like he was on the fence, as was Rhodey, but Tony was confident both of them would choose right; Bruce didn’t want any more casualties and Rhodey knew how to strategize. 

“If Tony’s willing to do it, I say we proceed,” Natasha said finally. 

Steve shifted in his seat, back ramrod straight. He looked like a man who had been betrayed. His eyes found Tony’s again, something akin to desperation in his gaze. “Can I talk to you – alone?” 

“Now?” Tony countered, pretending not to know why Steve wanted a word. 

“Yes,” Steve said curtly and got up before Tony even agreed. 

With a dramatic sigh, Tony got to his feet and followed Steve away from the group. They entered the kitchen through a swing door designed to allow for lots of foot traffic when catering at parties. It was far from soundproof, but Tony suspected privacy was less important to Steve than was getting his point across. 

“You can’t do this,” Steve said without wasting any time. 

“I can and I will,” Tony argued. “We don’t have anything else. Bucky might do in a pinch, but we would have to expose him a lot more than if we use me as bait.” 

Steve tried to stare him down, jaw tense. “What if we fail?” he asked the burning question. “What if he takes you again?” 

“He won’t,” Tony countered. “We’ll make sure of that.” 

Steve shifted, appearing uncertain – then lashed out faster than Tony could blink, fingers of one hand curling around Tony’s throat and body slamming him back against the nearest wall, hard enough to rattle nearby fixtures. “He’s fast,” Steve hissed, body pressed tight against Tony’s, keeping his toes from touching the floor, leaving him helpless in his grip. “He’s strong and smart – and most importantly, he’s _motivated_.” Blue eyes bore holes into Tony’s, trying to force him to cave with pure willpower. 

With his air supply all but cut off, forcing his hands up around Steve’s forearm in hopes of easing the pressure, his toes barely scraping the floor, Tony was helpless. His body remembered this part, flushing with intense warmth, preparing to retaliate if it went on for much longer. 

Steve must have felt the heat where he was pinning Tony against the wall because Tony could actually feel his muscles jump an instant before he stepped back and let go of him, a flush creeping over his cheeks. Maybe it was anger – or maybe it was something else – but he seemed determined to keep driving his opinion home, not backing down. 

Tony held back from coughing despite the scratch in his throat. There would be bruises on his neck from this, but if they were lucky, they wouldn’t appear until after the meeting was over. He tried not to lower his posture, to show weakness, but it was impossible to hide. 

“He said it to me the first time we fought: I have nothing at stake,” Steve said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “With Bucky, maybe…” He hesitated, and Tony groaned, finally managing to straighten himself and breathe deeply. 

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said, voice rough from the recent abuse to his throat. Steve stiffened in response to it. “You’re not the only one who’ll have my back. Just because you’re not motivated enough doesn’t mean I can’t trust the others to try their best.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve snapped, taking half a step forward before catching himself. “He has nothing to lose and everything to gain. Yes, he’ll walk into a trap if he thinks he has a chance – and he’ll probably be right about those odds, no matter how we play our cards.” 

Tony tried not to hesitate, but honestly, he didn’t want to be kidnapped a second time; there was no way it was going to be half as pleasant as the first time, and that hadn’t been a joyride either. 

“Please,” Steve begged, which was something new. 

“What other choice do we have that doesn’t put innocent lives in danger?” Tony asked, even though his voice betrayed his own fears. “Worst case scenario is that he’ll find something to use as leverage and get me to walk right back into his arms. We need to make our move before that happens.” Tentatively, he laid a hand on Steve’s arm, much in the same way the man had laid a hand on his earlier. “I trust you to want to take him down, whatever your motivation is. You’ll find a fire that matches his, and you’ll have the team to back you up.” 

Steve looked down at where Tony’s hand was touching him, as if mesmerized by it. Truth be told, these were a few of the rare times they touched each other on purpose, and for once it wasn’t hostile in some way. 

Tony had to admit he could get used to that. 

“You failed to protect me once,” Tony reminded him again. “Your pride won’t allow you to fail a second time.” 

Steve nodded, features grim with determination. 

“Let’s get back to the others,” Tony said then, withdrawing his hand. “Those plans won’t make themselves.” 

Steve didn’t look thrilled when they walked back to the others, but after a short period of silence, he threw himself into the planning process, dismissing options left and right and weeding out potential options until they began to zero in on a plan that was ‘Cap proof’. 

Tony fell silent at some point, simply taking notes, stealing glances at Steve. Was it hard for him to try to put himself into the Commander’s shoes, placing him in a mind more twisted than his own, yet eerily similar? Was it unfair of them to ask this of him? 

Steve looked back at him after Tony had spent several minute debating this train of thought, meeting his eyes. 

Yes, it was hard, and probably making Steve feel rotten on the inside, but rarely did anyone have this good a source of information when laying out their plans. Dealing with the wrongness of it could wait until they had the Commander safely in custody. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	36. The Warning

****

# Chapter 36: The Warning

  
  


Their plans were made, and the team was – for the most part – getting some much-needed rest before they set things in motion. 

Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he tried, so after making sure his gear was ready, he headed out to get something to eat. At some point after their meeting, the wreckage of the Quinjet had appeared back in the hangar below the common floor. Steve noticed it when he was heading for the kitchen and decided to check it out, knowing there was no way the aircraft was in flying condition after the fall. 

Apparently he wasn’t the only one feeling restless: Tony was up, surveying the damage to the Quinjet, his suit and War Machine both standing by. Steve walked into the hangar area, being sure to make enough noise so as not to startle the other man. He looked around to see whether anyone else was around, but couldn’t see anyone. Not even Rhodes. 

“Didn’t you just give everyone a big speech about the importance of rest?” Tony asked without turning. 

Steve refused to feel guilty. “I did,” he agreed instead, walking over to stand beside Tony. “Is Rhodes around?” 

“No,” Tony shook his head, then cocked it as he looked at the Quinjet. “He’s getting some shut-eye like any good little soldier should.” 

Steve gave the War Machine armor another look. It looked active, eyes and chest piece glowing. 

Tony followed his gaze. “I needed to get the Quinjet off the street so I borrowed Rhodey’s suit,” he volunteered. “I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

Steve hummed in agreement. 

Tony turned to look at him. “Chill, Cap. We’re just about as prepared as we can be. The plan is solid and we have several contingency options available if things should start going in the wrong direction.” 

“All that might not be enough,” Steve reminded him. “We don’t know him that well, or the tools he has at his disposal. Our plan is largely based on what _I_ would do.” The Commander had led a very different life, and Steve wasn’t entirely comfortable assuming they could set their trap based on what he could handle – especially when Tony would be acting as bait. 

“Those odds will be against us no matter what we do,” Tony said. “I have confidence that we can wing it when need be.” 

Steve frowned. Tony’s optimism was dangerous – and possibly false. There was no knowing whether he truly believed their chances to be as good as he said. Steve seriously doubted he was totally okay with his part in the plan, either. 

“We can go over it again if you’d like,” Tony offered. 

“No,” Steve shook his head and looked away from Tony, collecting his thoughts. He ended up gazing at the Quinjet which bore the marks of the Commander’s attack. Steve wasn’t certain he would have dared to brave a similar assault mid-air, which led him to wonder all over again whether they really were prepared for what the Commander had to offer. 

Tony took a tiny step closer to him, leaving him standing side-by-side with Steve, observing the wreckage. “You know, even if all else fails, you can trust in one thing above all else.” 

“What?” Steve asked, hoping it was something he could actually rest his faith on. 

“I’m not going to let him take me again,” Tony stated. “I trust you guys to back me up on that one, but in the end, I’m used to carrying my own weight.” 

Steve wanted to argue that it might not be a matter of choice. Tony must have sensed that because he turned around, looking at something behind them – the armors. 

“I have a great team, but at the end of the day, there’s someone else I trust even more,” Tony told him, nodding towards the armors. 

“Yourself?” Steve guessed. 

“My tech,” Tony corrected. “More precisely, J.A.R.V.I.S.” 

Tony’s armor shifted its head in the slightest hint of an acknowledging nod. 

Steve wasn’t certain why he felt somewhat insulted by that – especially when he knew Tony had the right to think that way, and if it made him feel safer tomorrow, that was fine. 

_“You don’t agree, Captain?”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. questioned through the hidden speakers of the room. For some reason, Steve had expected the AI to use the armor to communicate, but he didn’t claim to understand the logic behind the AI’s actions. 

“I don’t see how it matters either way,” Steve admitted. 

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, an almost disapproving expression on his face. “You’re doubting my AI’s loyalty?” 

“Of course not,” Steve denied. 

Tony didn’t look like he believed him. “Look, I know he’s just a program to most people, but I know what he’s capable of doing in a pinch – and that’s saving my life. Just because he failed the first time the Commander made an appearance doesn’t mean he’ll let it happen again.” 

Steve felt like pointing out that he could make a similar promise, and it was still possible it would backfire. Until they had the Commander under lock and key, all bets were off. That Tony was thinking of his tech as a security blanket of sorts wasn’t going to remove the actual danger. 

“I’m glad you feel like J.A.R.V.I.S. can make a difference,” he finally said. 

_“You don’t think it will be enough,”_ the AI guessed. 

“No.” 

Tony pursed his lips. “We’ll see,” was his response. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Steve snapped, his frustration shining through again. “We might not get another chance. If we blow this and he escapes – or worse, kidnaps you again – there’s no knowing how this will end.” 

“I’m not worried about him escaping or not showing up,” Tony replied. “He’ll come for me eventually when he sees an opening. That’s why he’s here in the first place, and he doesn’t have anything else to do – except perhaps kill Barnes, but seeing as we have him with us, there’s no doubt where he’ll strike eventually.” 

“So, that leaves only the issue we’re all concerned about,” Steve said. “That he’ll outsmart us and grab you from under our noses.” 

“We can play this guessing game for a long time,” Tony noted. “It won’t change the facts. We just need to react faster than he does.” 

Reaction time had never been Iron Man’s strong suit, what with the clunky metal armor, but Steve opted not to say that out loud. “I just don’t want you to get too careless and forget what he’s capable of.” 

“I won’t,” Tony promised. “I’m the last person you should be worried about when it comes to that.” 

Steve supposed he was right, but it didn’t make him worry any less. The Commander would go to ground if he got his hands on Tony again, and if it started to look like he wasn’t going to succeed in reclaiming the man, there was no knowing how far he was willing to go. 

He couldn’t actually relate to that because he had never felt like that towards another person, but he remembered the pain of hearing Bucky’s unit had been killed or captured; there had been very few things he hadn’t been willing to do to get him back. 

The Commander had lived a very different life, but from what Steve had seen, it hadn’t softened his resolve – quite the opposite. 

If Tony was the light at the end of his tunnel, his only reason for being… 

Steve looked at his teammate, with whom he didn’t get along nearly as well as he would have liked, and wondered what that even felt like. Being so drawn to another, traveling to another realm of existence to be reunited with them – with Tony Stark, of all people. 

“Unless there’s something concrete you can think of, stop worrying,” Tony ordered, mistaking his long look for something else. 

Steve sighed. “Just promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks. Like you said, he’ll try to get to you again, so there’s no reason to tempt fate tomorrow.” 

“What happened to catching him in order to avoid collateral damage?” 

“We have little proof he’s dangerous to outsiders when he’s not with you.” 

“Now you’re just finding excuses to make us reconsider the plan all over again,” Tony accused him softly. “He’ll kill someone eventually, and each and every one of those victims will be on our conscience because we didn’t stop him in time.” 

Steve knew he was right. Their plan was as good as it was going to get with their limited knowledge. All they needed was a bit of luck and a determination to come home victorious by whatever means necessary. 

He just hoped it didn’t mean losses on their side. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	37. The Bait

****

# Chapter 37: The Bait

  
  
****

### Central Park,  
Manhattan, New York, NY

  


Central Park, much like the rest of New York City, never truly slept. However, a dark forested area wasn’t most people’s first choice to hang out in late at night, so it made for a reasonably good place to ambush a disturbed super-soldier. 

To most of the team, the park hadn’t been their first choice, but Tony declared the spot had to be somewhere he would – in theory – be hanging out sans the suit; someplace appealing for an attempted kidnapping. Sure, the Commander might approach him no matter how obvious the trap, but a public place made it less easy for him to set traps of his own, or other nasty surprises. 

Once they began to get into position, Steve called the local police department and informed them that the Avengers would be attempting to apprehend a dangerous individual in the park, and that it would help if it were closed to the public. That call blew the cover off their plan, obviously, but it was better to get the civilians out of the way in case things escalated. 

Besides, closed park or not, Tony felt pretty vulnerable as he strode down a path with a Starbucks coffee and a box of Munchkins from Dunkin’ Donuts in hand. After initially stepping within the park grounds, he hadn’t seen a single person, and with the sun rapidly dropping, the lengthening shadows made for a creepy setting. Every sound of leaves brushing against one another or a twig snapping in the distance made him tense. 

_“Everything is looking good, sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. commented through the earpiece. Tony couldn’t hear any actual sound from the team or the suits, but he knew they were out there. 

Tony didn’t bother replying, seeing as he could at least try to hold onto the illusion that he was simply taking a stroll through the abandoned Central Park very late at night – not setting a trap for a rogue super-soldier. 

He arrived at a tiny little pond and stopped to look at the still water, slowly sipping the coffee. Every now and then the wind would stir the surface and the ripples caught the rays of light from the nearest lamp. There was a single bench near the water’s edge and Tony considered sitting down. 

Someone came walking along the path behind him before he could make up his mind. Tony felt himself become tense despite his attempts not to, but the footfalls went past him and continued on, away into the growing darkness. He told himself he was becoming paranoid, which wasn’t going to help him pull this off. Sure, the team was close, but there was a reason why he had considered all other options before volunteering as bait – no matter how willing he may have sounded. 

In these circumstances, apprehending the Commander as quickly as possible was worth the risk. 

Of course, there was no knowing whether the super-soldier would take the bait, and if he was going to take it tonight. 

Tony didn’t like all the ‘what ifs’ that they were dealing with. Their outcomes were beyond his ability to manipulate, and the best he could do was to prepare for all the ones he could predict. They had contingency plans in place for tonight, too, but they were only as good as their imagination and Cap’s educated guesses because their opponent was a stranger to them, no matter his close ties to Steve. 

His coffee was almost finished, and Tony tightened his fingers a fraction around the cup, feeling the fading heat through the paper. 

“You’re going to get cold, dressed like that,” a familiar voice commented from behind him, and Tony went still like a rabbit desperately hoping for the predator to pass it by. 

_“I have eyes on target,”_ Clint said over the comm, volume set low so that it wouldn’t distract Tony too much. _“Where the hell did he come from?”_

_“Approach with caution,”_ Steve ordered, voice already a couple notches too tight. Tony had hoped it would take a bit longer for him to reach this level. 

Tony turned slowly, facing the man who had appeared behind him like a ghost from non-existing mist. He had found a leather jacket to pull over his uniform, but it didn’t really hide anything at all; it was simply a distraction, to let him pass in the crowd without drawing too much attention. 

Keenly aware that the Commander could have chosen to step much closer before alerting Tony to his presence, instead of choosing to halt about ten feet away, Tony tried to calm his nerves and play it cool. “Munchkin?” he asked, raising the box of treats still held in his hand. 

The Commander’s eyes went for the box as if it were a ticking bomb, evaluating it for several seconds before raising his gaze back to Tony’s face. “How much time do we have before the others make their move?” he asked, letting Tony know he was fully aware of this being a trap – or he didn’t know for sure, but assumed that was the case. After all, it didn’t sound like he was fishing for information, though Tony wouldn’t have put it past him. 

“What makes you think we aren’t already surrounded?” Tony challenged him, slowly moving to the side and setting both the near-empty cup and the box of Munchkins on the bench. 

The Commander didn’t take a nervous look around. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease, regarding Tony with intensity that didn’t leave room for keeping an eye on their surroundings. It was a bit unnerving, prompting Tony to wonder whether the Commander had such a perfect plan to get out of this situation that he didn’t need to worry about the other Avengers. 

“You know how this is going to end, right?” Tony asked, instantly beating himself up for sounding nervous. 

“No,” the Commander responded and took a step forward. “It’s all in the wind – and so it shall remain until I am dead. Before I draw my last breath, the odds may be against me, but I’m used to that. I’m used to _winning_ no matter the obstacles set before me.” 

For a moment, Tony could envision Steve Rogers as he was before the serum, tiny and frail, claiming that he was never going to stop, never surrender – never compromise. In his own way, the Commander was still upholding all that. 

“I’m not coming with you,” Tony said. “If you had played your cards differently at the beginning, who knows what could have happened, but we’ve come too far for that to be an option anymore.” It might have been easier to say ‘ _it was never gonna happen between us_ ’, but that may have also been a lie. Tony knew himself well enough to not rule it out, although he had his doubts when it came to the Commander. 

Still, the Commander had claimed he was capable of redeeming himself, and Tony knew a thing or two about that… 

It might have been the possibility of _a second chance_ that may have eventually paved the road to a very different outcome, but that had all shriveled away in the tunnel, and there was a hint on the scarred face that the Commander knew that, too. 

“I could apologize,” the Commander suggested. 

“I don’t want an apology,” Tony retorted. 

“I know,” came the somewhat subdued reply. “Nothing’s changed, though,” he added, taking another step forward. For now, Tony stood his ground, no matter how strong the urge to back away from the Commander. “You’re still the only thing that matters, Tony,” the Commander stated. “You’re the reason I’m here.” 

“I’m not responsible for that,” Tony argued. 

“No,” the Commander agreed. He took a third step forward, quickly closing the distance he had originally left between them. “He died and left me to deal with the realization that I should have done more – should have made the hard call and chosen to deviate from the conditioning HYDRA had me subjected to over the years. I should have chosen him while I still had the chance.” 

For the first time – or so it felt – the Commander was saying ‘he’ and not ‘you’ when talking about the Tony from the alternate world. Perhaps he was finally beginning to see the difference – or this was a masterful deception to make Tony think that and thus lower his guard. 

“I’m not him,” Tony said, trying to figure out which it was, eyes locked on the Commander’s face. “I’m sorry you lost him, especially when things were so… unfinished between you. But I’m never going to replace him. I refuse to be your reason to excel in this world – or the cause of your downfall.” 

“That’s not up to you,” the Commander stated. “What I want is directly linked to what I need, and that is hardly anything someone other than myself gets to influence.” 

“Doesn’t mean you’ll get it,” Tony reminded him. “You can want all your little heart desires, but at the end of the day, everyone chooses their own boundaries and how to enforce them, and mine are firmly wedged between us.” 

There was a slight clench of muscles near the Commander’s jaw, speaking of impatience and anger. Tony grew wary, knowing he was walking on thin ice as it was. He was supposed to play for time, to give the others a better chance at getting into position and capturing their target, and while getting beat up was one way to distract the Commander, it wasn’t the option he was most fond of. 

“Doesn’t matter,” the Commander muttered, almost as if to convince himself of something. “I didn’t see it before – and you don’t see it now. But you will.” 

“People forcing their ideas on me has never worked,” Tony warned the Commander and took a few steps back. Their conversation could turn into open hostility in less than a second, and he knew he had allowed the other too close as it was; people could move fast when they wanted to, and a super-soldier moved faster than anyone else. 

“I could give you things,” the Commander promised, advancing once more, matching Tony’s pace as he moved away. “No one would ever touch you again, hurt you. I could give you pleasure. Companionship.” There was something akin to earnestness on his face, a flash of genuine desire behind all the venom and harshness. 

“I don’t want it,” Tony refused. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of, and that’s going to taint everything good that might come in the future.” 

“Because people don’t change?” the Commander snorted – then shot forward, one fist gripping the front of Tony’s clothes before he could finish drawing in air. 

Tony stumbled slightly, leaning back as far as the hold would allow, and felt the tip of his left shoe grow wet. His eyes shot down and he realized he had been one step from walking into the pond before the Commander reached out and stopped him. Damn. 

“You changed,” the Commander said, pulling Tony forward slightly, keeping him on dry land. 

Tony couldn’t help but look at him, locking their eyes. They were talking about the other Tony Stark again, but Tony didn’t doubt for a second their histories were all that different from one another. 

“You turned your life around,” the Commander went on. “Out with the old, in with the new resolution to save the world. A phoenix rising from the ashes of his own shame.” 

Not so different at all… 

“Don’t I deserve the same chance? To redeem myself?” the Commander asked. 

“Do you want it?” Tony asked, knowing he was indulging the other and undermining his own attempts to build a wall between them. “Redemption isn’t easily come by, and some things… they can never be undone.” 

The blue eyes searched his, as if seeking an answer to a burning question. Perhaps it had to do with the one thing Tony might never be able to forgive, even if the Commander did choose to change his evil ways. 

Before the Commander could reply, there was a rustle of leaves and a quick hum of vibranium as a shield came cutting through the night air, flying past them and hitting a tree on the other side of the pond, rebounding to the right, hitting another tree trunk and then flying back past their other side to its owner’s waiting hand. “Let him go!” Captain America ordered, standing there like a bull waiting for the trigger that would make it charge at its target. 

Tony didn’t have time to say a word before he was spun forward, placed as a human shield in front of the Commander, a firm forearm pressing against his neck. 

“That has never been my intention,” the Commander replied coolly. “What makes you think I’d be willing to let him go now that I have him?” 

The Captain’s eyes narrowed, lips tight. He didn’t look at Tony directly, but no doubt there was a round of ‘ _told you_ ’s waiting in there somewhere. 

They just had to survive this ordeal in order to get there. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	38. The Ploy

****

# Chapter 38: The Ploy

  
  


“Let him go,” Steve repeated, his center of gravity shifting lower. If it was clear to Tony he was seconds away from attacking, it had to be glaringly obvious to the Commander. 

“No,” the Commander refused. “I was weak twice before, compromising, letting him go. Someone may have called it the right tactical choice, but it didn’t aid the efforts to reach my goal, which is getting him back.” His hold on Tony tightened fractionally, prompting Tony to dig his fingers into the arm holding him prisoner, ineffectively trying to keep the air flowing into his lungs. 

Asphyxiation meant weakness, and weakness led to an inability to defend himself – or even make a run for it when the opportunity arrived. The Commander would know that, of course, so maybe it was intentional and not just a by-product of his obsessive need to get his hands on Tony – literally and figuratively. 

“You’re never getting him back,” Steve retorted. “In fact, you never had him in the first place. You can keep someone prisoner, but it’s just an illusion that it would make them _yours_.” 

The Commander snarled. “Did you read that in a book somewhere? A S.H.I.E.L.D. manual? I know you never loved anyone – didn’t have the chance. Bucky, perhaps, but it was never the same.” He shifted his head and kissed Tony’s temple, clearly to make a statement. “I’ve made mistakes along the way, but he was never one of them. Breaking into another world to get him back was my only option to repent for the fact that I wasted my first chance with him.” 

“I think it’s safe to say you blew it in this world, too,” Steve noted, tone harsh and condescending. It was obvious what he was talking about. “Maybe you had a chance to win him over with your sob-story of how HYDRA fucked you up inside, but raping him just proved you’re nothing but rotting ideals on the inside. You’ll never be capable of being someone he would want.” 

The Commander snarled, shifting forward, almost dumping Tony to the side in order to get his hands on his double, but then he halted, clearly realizing what he was doing, and pulled Tony more firmly against him. “Well played, Captain,” he congratulated Steve. “You of all people know how short our tempers are with the right trigger.” 

“You think I’m taunting you?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “I’m telling you the truth as it is, and I think you know it, too, if your reaction is anything to go by.” 

The Commander was silent for a few seconds. He shifted his hold on Tony, moving his arm so that he could wrap his fingers around his throat. He didn’t squeeze, and dared to caress his thumb across Tony’s skin, as if comforting him. “It hurt you, didn’t it?” he said to Steve. “Knowing what I did to him… Did it make you feel dirty? Like you had partaken in the act somehow simply because you’ll always remind him of me, no matter how this ends tonight?” 

“You don’t,” Tony protested, and Steve met his eyes for the first time since this uncomfortable conversation began. “I told you…” 

Steve nodded slowly, but he didn’t look like a person who had been convinced. 

“Maybe it’s fortunate you never had any desire for him, because I guess I ruined that for you, too,” the Commander taunted, fingers tightening just slightly, clearly punishing Tony for his words. 

Steve looked a little sick. 

“It wasn’t you,” Tony called out despite the obvious warning signals from the Commander. 

“Maybe not, but with enough time…” The Commander squeezed harder around Tony’s neck and nailed his gaze with Steve’s. “The first time you fail at being a perfect person, you’ll see a shadow of that look on his face. And it will grow and intensify as time goes by, because he’ll realize that we are the same, deep down. Same faults.” 

“No,” Steve ground out and moved to attack. 

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out, and then the Commander dug his free hand into a pocket of his jacket and withdrew something. It resembled the disc that had dropped Tony the first time they met, but this time he threw it at Steve. On a normal day, Steve would have been ready for it, but he was reckless right now, provoked into an attack, and the Commander’s aim was true: the disk latched onto Steve’s exposed neck and Tony could almost hear the static traveling through his body. 

Steve jerked and fell down with a pained grunt, body twitching and trying to fight the weapon that was no doubt meant to disable him upon contact. 

“Two can play at this game,” the Commander sneered and turned around, dragging Tony along, clearly intent on leaving Steve lying there, jerking on the ground. 

“Indeed!” Thor’s voice called out, and he dropped from the sky right in front of them, startling them both. The Asgardian did not wait, punching the Commander hard, his fist almost catching Tony’s cheek in the process. The Commander jerked back, dragging Tony along, the pressure almost crushing his windpipe for an instant before the other let go. 

Thor reached out to jerk Tony away by his arm, the force threatening to dislocate the limb but also prevented him from following the Commander all the way to the ground. “Go,” Thor ordered, shoving Tony in the opposite direction. Feeling once again like a kid being tossed between bullies, Tony fought to remain on his feet, his throat burning as he swallowed and drew air into his lungs. 

_“Sir,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. called out via the earpiece. 

“Alive,” Tony said, coughing violently after the tiny word. 

_“I can see that,”_ the AI replied. Somewhere above them, Tony heard the hum of repulsors. 

Behind him, he could hear the Commander and Thor clashing. He turned to look over his shoulder, just in time to see the Commander releasing his shield from his back and bringing it forward just as Thor gave a mighty swing with his hammer. 

“Shit,” Tony swore before the pressure wave exploded from the collision point. He was thrown backwards and onto the ground, rolling over his shoulder and almost twisting his neck in the process. His body thudded in a harsh landing, and as he happened to look up, he saw Steve’s body and shield tumbling away as well, helpless against the brutal force that managed to level several trees and one lamp post nearby. The water in the pond splashed violently and some of it landed on Tony before retreating back to the sunken area where it belonged. 

_“Does he never learn?”_ Clint swore across the comm. 

_“Someone get to Cap, remove that disc,”_ Natasha ordered. 

_“I’ll go,”_ Sam Wilson volunteered. 

_“Let me handle it,”_ Rhodey argued. _“I’ll be better protected in the suit in case those two decide to do that again.”_

Tony cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in order to tell his AI to get his suit down here so that he could get inside its relative safety, but before he could, he heard Thor grunt in pain as the Commander delivered a series of kicks, punches and strikes of his shield that left the God of Thunder reeling. With one more roundhouse kick, the Commander forced Thor to take a step back – which left him on the muddy, soaked edge of the pond. The Asgardian slipped, and with a spectacular flap of his cape, went down into the water. 

The Commander followed and hauled his shield high before smashing it right into Thor’s face. 

Tony grimaced: the force would have been enough to crack a man’s skull wide open and then some, and unsurprisingly the Norse God didn’t get up. However, Thor always boasted how tough he and his people were, and Tony wordlessly ordered him not to be dead since that would obviously put his ancestors to shame. 

The Commander stepped out of the water, eyes searching for Tony, but before he could move towards him, War Machine dropped out of the sky. The ground rolled beneath the impact, but Rhodey didn’t wait for the element of surprise to fade, attacking the Commander without a snappy comment or an ounce of hesitation. 

Rhodey didn’t go for a repulsor – which would have been Tony’s first choice – instead firing the big gun on his shoulder. Several bullets hit the Commander in the shoulder and upper left arm, and Tony imagined he saw faint sprays of blood in the weak light as the Commander staggered back – then dodged down and attacked War Machine before he could fully compensate. 

Tony’s mind screamed at Rhodey to take a step back even if it would unbalance him, to put distance between himself and the Commander, but Rhodey was too intent on standing his ground. 

Clearly, he had never had the displeasure of being hit with the famous vibranium shield, and Tony let out a tiny yell as he saw his friend’s head get knocked back by the impact as the Commander struck him under the armored chin with his weapon. 

War Machine staggered back a couple steps, giving the Commander time to haul off and strike the minigun with the edge of his shield, almost cutting the weapon in two and effectively disabling it. 

Tony saw a section of the armor’s shoulder rise, another weapon preparing to fire, but up close all the Commander needed to do was get his shield up and keep it there to fend off the new attack. A few of the tiny rockets propelled back, almost hitting Falcon who was dropping down from the sky to help Cap. Sam yelled and swerved to the side, almost crashing to the ground before catching himself and landing hard on his back. 

The Commander sneered and took half a step back from War Machine, blocking a couple punches before he swiped some blood from his left arm and smeared it all over War Machine’s faceplate with his right, temporarily throwing Rhodey off. It gave him just enough time to adjust his shield and bring it down on the arc reactor in the armor’s chest, a shower of sparks filling the air between them before the power source shut down. 

_“Okay,”_ Sam said, voice carrying over the comm, _“somebody wanna give me a hand here?”_ His eyes were on the Commander while his hand was reaching for the disk on Cap’s neck. He seemed to know he wasn’t exactly a match for the Commander, especially with the beating the others had just received. 

The Commander sent his shield flying before anyone else could intervene, and Sam ducked reflexively, almost making it out of the way. Tony heard the weak sound of the shield hitting the back of his head, sending Sam face-first into the grass. Tony could hear him groaning, so at least he wasn’t dead, but the Commander seemed to decide he was no longer a threat as he turned back to look at Tony, face grim. 

“J!” Tony called out, refusing to admit his tone was getting a bit panicky. He could blame it on the bruises on his windpipe if anyone asked. 

Mark 45 landed between Tony and the Commander as if the AI had been waiting just for this moment to make an appearance. The armor came prepared, however, because no sooner had it landed that the chest piece fired, the beam catching the Commander right in the chest and pummeling him backwards. 

Tony climbed to his feet, feeling a bit woozy, but he would have had to feel a lot worse not to be able to reach the safety of his armor. 

_“It is over, Commander,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. informed the fallen man through the suit’s speakers. 

The Commander spat out a mouthful of blood and got back to his feet. 

Tony hesitated, eyes calculating the distance between himself and the suit, as well as the crucial seconds it would take him to get inside and for the suit to seal itself shut and become operational. In his current state, he wasn’t as fast as usual, and the Commander wasn’t going to just stand there and wait for him to be ready. 

J.A.R.V.I.S. had to know that because the AI didn’t open the suit to welcome him in. 

_“You can take him out, right?”_ Bruce asked over the comm, dread in his voice. The Hulk was their final straw if all else failed, and seeing as Natasha and Clint were still recovering from their previous encounter with the Commander, the pickings were getting pretty slim. Bruce would take the stage if need be, but it wasn’t ideal in the middle of Manhattan with only one target for the big guy to beat up. 

Barnes had reluctantly agreed to help if it came to it, mostly for the sake of eliminating the threat posed against himself, no doubt. Steve hadn’t wanted to risk it, though, knowing the Commander’s past with the Winter Soldier. Seeing as the rest of their team had some trust issues on that front, too, Barnes was also standing back, only to engage if all other options were exhausted. 

Whether they would deploy him before the Hulk… 

Mark 45’s repulsors whined in response to Bruce’s worried question, preparing to fire, and Tony took a step back, knowing the suit needed all the room it could get to maneuver. 

“Get in the air and don’t let him get to his shield,” Tony murmured, knowing J.A.R.V.I.S. would catch it. 

_“Yes, sir,”_ the AI said and moved to comply. 

Instead of even trying to go after the armor, the Commander launched forward towards Tony, with speed that was truly frightening for a guy who had already gotten his fair share of beatings. 

Tony looked up, fast enough to make his neck ache, to see that J.A.R.V.I.S. was trying to compensate, but after a certain point the danger of hitting Tony grew too great and the AI opted not to fire. Tony, of course, would have made the shot, but his priorities often clashed with his AI’s, and seeing it demonstrated at a time like this made him want to scream a few profanities. 

A _whoosh_ reached Tony right before the Commander did, and the super-soldier went down in front of him. The familiar thud of Cap’s shield hitting a body was like music to Tony’s ears. He looked up to see Steve crouched on one knee, tearing the partially loose disk from his skin before getting to his feet and leaning forward. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., get Tony out of here,” Steve ordered. 

“But –” Tony started. 

The Commander groaned and lifted himself to his hands and knees. 

Tony took a couple steps back and heard the armor fly over him, then land right behind him. 

_“Sir, please,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. pleaded. 

Tony grumbled but stepped back into the waiting cocoon, breathing in carefully as it closed around him. His throat felt swollen and talking was painful – as well as swallowing and breathing too deeply. 

Outside the armor, the Commander and Captain America were facing each other, both missing their shields for now. It looked like that for the time being, both of them had forgotten Tony was even there. 

J.A.R.V.I.S., however, had not, and Tony let out a startled yell as the armor fired up and shot him up to the sky, away from the fight that was still very much happening. 

“J, we need to help Cap,” Tony protested. 

_“Your safety comes first,”_ the AI argued. 

“I’m safe inside the armor,” Tony pointed out. “If it starts looking bad, we’ll re-evaluate the situation.” Really, he was in no condition to have a pointless argument with his AI. 

J.A.R.V.I.S. didn’t respond, and Tony would have banged his head against something if he could have, but as it were, he was a passenger inside his own suit until his AI decided to hand over the controls. 

Seeing as it had come uncomfortably close to Tony being taken by the Commander again, and how he had dispatched War Machine, Tony kind of saw how J.A.R.V.I.S. might argue the battle field wasn’t the best place for him. 

That didn’t mean Tony had to like it, or even agree with it. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	39. The Captain

****

# Chapter 39: The Captain

  
  


Steve was back on his feet and ready to kick ass. The disc that had paralyzed him was gone, the skin smarting where it had been attached to him. He was determined not to let the Commander use such a weapon against him again, because the fight had clearly taken a turn for the worse while he was out of it: Thor floated in the water of the pond, unconscious; War Machine was down, chest sparking; Sam had been groaning into the grass beside him when Steve snapped out of it. 

Now that he had gotten Tony out of harm’s way – J.A.R.V.I.S. seemed to agree on that desire and carried out Steve’s order despite Tony’s protests – he could focus on the main objective. This fight had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Commander was too dangerous to be allowed to roam free; he had the guts and the skill to attack the Avengers as a team, and take them apart one by one, especially if they didn’t get their act together and fight as a team. 

Somehow, everyone seemed to have forgotten they were supposed to work together. Perhaps the Commander didn’t pose a big enough threat for them to react to it appropriately, even though they had faced off against him before. 

Now, it was Steve against the Commander, and he was determined to finish it. 

The Commander wasn’t looking happy, scowling and gritting his teeth. Tony had been in his grasp, and losing him had to sting. 

“This is the end of the line for you,” Steve stated. 

The Commander sneered. “You think you have what it takes to accomplish that?” 

“We’ll see,” Steve promised and attacked. Neither of them had their shields, which made it a fight of pure bodily strength and agility. 

The Commander blocked Steve’s punch, trying to catch him in the midriff in return, but Steve quickly lifted a right knee, aiming it at the ribs of his opponent, and the Commander shifted back to avoid it. Steve pushed forward with another punch, forcing the Commander onto the defensive, and they kept at it for a while, blocking and dodging, trying to get past each other’s guard. 

Steve was the one who managed to land the first jaw-shattering blow after unbalancing the Commander by swiping his supporting foot from under him. The Commander reeled back, barely keeping himself from landing on the wet grass, and he checked his jaw while straightening himself up again. 

Normally, Steve would have waited for his opponent to get back on their feet, so to speak, but with the Commander there was no reason to wait. Steve didn’t need to make this fight more even in order to give himself a challenge; there already was a substantial risk that he might not win, as much as he didn’t like that fact. The Commander needed no breather, and so Steve pushed forward, going in for a kick. 

The Commander rolled to the side, avoiding his foot easily enough, but he was too far over to launch an attack of his own before Steve was striking again like an angry viper. 

Steve had partaken in various fights where their success was crucial to the safety of the world: stopping Red Skull, the Chitauri and Loki, and later the HYDRA Helicarriers. All defining moments where the knowledge that _he had to win_ relentlessly pounded in the back of his mind. 

This fight was beginning to give him a similar taste, even though the Commander didn’t endanger the entire world with his presence. The threat he posed was more personal in nature, and Steve couldn’t fight the sense of urgency he felt, to deal with him once and for all. 

The Commander didn’t seem to have anything against that, either; with Tony out of his reach, Steve had become an obstacle in his path, and simply discarding him to the side only so that Steve could attack him again didn’t pass for an effective strategy. Steve had proven that he could be a thorn in the Commander’s side, and it was doubtful Steve’s double would overlook it for long. 

Steve’s attack was fast and furious, landing a fist and a knee in the Commander’s face before the other threw himself at Steve’s middle and brought them both down on the wet grass. Adrenaline coursed through Steve’s body as he fought to regain the upper hand, but the Commander was leaning over him, pinning him down, using his weight to his advantage. 

Thrashing and twisting, Steve tried to get free, but he was going nowhere while simultaneously attempting to block the attacks. It was instinct to cover his head and keep the Commander from striking him where he was most vulnerable – neck, face – but the longer he was on the defensive meant giving the other one an opportunity to strike in some way Steve couldn’t predict just yet. 

So, he lowered his hands, seeking to gain leverage against the ground instead, and the Commander immediately punched him right in the face, jarring his brain and blinding him for an instant. 

Steve’s hands moved blindly for a moment, forgetting what he had set out to do, but then his fingertips grazed cool metal, smooth under his touch. 

The Commander hauled off again, yelling with the effort, and Steve raised his left arm in a last-ditch effort to block it while rolling to the right, reaching to get hold of the object. 

“I’ll kill you,” the Commander grunted, one hand grabbing Steve’s left wrist while the other took him by the throat, squeezing as hard as his super-human strength allowed. “I will kill each and every one of you if that’s what it takes, but Tony will be mine. When there’s no one left to stand between us, he’ll see…” 

Steve reached, shoulder and wrist aching from the pull, but he finally managed to grasp the metal object and bring it forward, striking the Commander with the edge of it. 

The Commander roared, his grasp on Steve slipping, and Steve took the opportunity to twist free, lungs burning and body shaking with the effort, heart pounding in his chest. He feared, for a moment, what would happen if he failed to stop the Commander. 

What would happen if he got to Tony again. 

In that moment, it wasn’t guilt that he felt over his failure to protect his teammate before. 

It wasn’t logic, either, dictating his actions for the betterment of the world. 

It was anger, refined into pure rage, laced with the physical pain he was currently experiencing and the abysmal helplessness he felt every time he looked at Tony, knowing what had happened to him. 

He twisted around, fingers squeezing the rim of the shield he had picked up from the ground. There was no time to calculate a trajectory or measure the distance between them; his gut told him just how far to reach as he brought the shield around like a chakram. It hit the Commander in the throat, sending him back, and Steve stumbled after him, falling upon his enemy with one knee on his chest. 

The Commander was coughing and fighting for air, throat bruised and bloody, eyes filled with violence as he gazed up at Steve, scarred face twisting into a snarl despite the blow he had just suffered. 

Steve didn’t blink, didn’t overthink it; he grasped the shield in both hands, lifted it up, then brought it down. 

Cartilage and bone crunched, and the body beneath him stopped fighting for freedom. 

Breathing hard, Steve stumbled back, leaving the shield where it lay. He felt numb, still reeling from the blow to the head he had suffered, but a part of him knew the fight was over – for good. 

The adrenaline flow was ebbing, pain and exhaustion pushing through the chemical filter, and Steve walked over to the bench by the pond, sitting down heavily, allowing the shaking to take over for a moment as he pushed his cowl back with bloody fingers. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	40. The Survivors

****

# Chapter 40: The Survivors

  
  


When the armor suddenly halted in the middle of its slow circling around Central Park, Tony sensed something had changed. “J?” he called out in question. So far, the AI had been elusive, trying to make his rebellion less obvious even though it couldn’t have been more glaring. 

_“The fight seems to have come to an end,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. 

Tony tried not to worry, deciding his AI would be phrasing the sentence very differently had something happened to Cap. “Relinquish control,” he ordered, and unlike all the other times he had demanded it, this time J.A.R.V.I.S. actually complied. Tony turned the suit around and made a beeline for the field of battle, coming upon a scene much like the one he had left – with one blatant difference. 

He put the suit down and stepped outside instantly. “Pull Thor out of the pond and see if anyone else needs help,” he ordered his AI. The suit moved to comply while Tony approached the still figure on the ground. Dread grew into a condensed little ball in his chest that weighed way more than it should have, but he couldn’t help it: the shield that stood upright from the Commander’s body blocked his view, and until he could be sure, he should be ready for anything. 

Tony rounded the body, steeling his nerves as he stepped beside it. Lifeless eyes stared up at the night sky, blood smeared all across his neck, chest and chin, no longer pulsing out of his body. The shield – Cap’s shield – was still embedded in his neck, no doubt after delivering the fatal blow. 

For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Tony stood by the fallen super-soldier for quite some time, studying his face, committing it to memory against his better judgment. It might haunt him, which really wasn’t necessary… 

In the background, the armor wrestled Thor out of the water, the Asgardian groaning as he finally came to. J.A.R.V.I.S. left him kneeling on the muddy bank, heading over to check on Rhodey and the damaged War Machine armor while a bit further off Sam Wilson was finally sitting up, hunched over and clutching at his head. 

Tony blinked slowly and forced himself to look away from the body, eyes sliding across the grass to the bench where Steve was seated, staring off into space. Prompting his body to move, Tony walked over to him and took a seat next to him, leaning against the back of the bench and breathing in the night air. He could smell a whiff of blood, and he guessed it was coming from the man next to him. 

“We’re both dead in that world, now,” he pondered out loud. “Wonder if that’s for the best…” 

Steve didn’t say anything in return. 

Tony allowed the silence to last a fair bit longer than was probably necessary, then looked at Steve. His face looked ashen in the far-away lamp light, smeared in blood that may not have been all his own. His hair was a tangled mess, and Tony fought a strange urge to run his fingers through it, to make him look a bit more presentable. 

“Steve,” he called out instead, not touching him. “No one’s going to blame you for making that call,” Tony reassured him. 

Steve blinked, lips opening a fraction. His gaze was still fixated on something Tony couldn’t see. “I felt nothing,” he finally said, voice strained like he had to fight to make a sound. “I thought of doing it, before,” he continued, a little easier. “Made up my mind, accepting it. I thought it would be a tough call, but if push came to shove, I would do the right thing.” He blinked and looked down at his hands. “Now, I just feel empty.” 

Tony wasn’t sure what to say. That it would get better, later? That killing your enemies didn’t always make things better? That regardless of how he felt, it was done and there was no taking it back now? 

“I know you did it for me,” he said instead, before actually processing the words. There was no taking back those words, either… 

Steve’s fingers curled into fists. 

“Thank you,” Tony added, voice dropping, his brain telling him that it was most likely making it worse, but there were some train wrecks that should be allowed to happen. 

From the debris, something better could be built. 

He sat back again, silence falling between them even as a Quinjet came hovering over the trees, stirring the water, the hum of the engines drowning out the rest of the world for a few blissful moments. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	41. The Comparison

****

# Chapter 41: The Comparison

  
  


Bruce surveyed the scene as he stepped off the ramp of the Quinjet that had swiftly replaced the destroyed one. Across the clearing, Tony’s armor was helping Rhodey out of his mangled one, Natasha had headed out to check on Sam, and Thor was slowly making it towards the aircraft, soaking wet, streaked in mud and blood, the hammer’s strap in a loose grasp and appearing almost too heavy for him to carry. 

On the other side of the pond, Steve and Tony sat on a bench together, and in the center of it all lay the still body of the Commander. 

Bruce swallowed. They had agreed the Hulk would be the last resort, and it seemed it had been a close call. Sure, Bucky had been in reserve, and Clint and Natasha would have stepped in and done their best, but it would have been up to the Hulk to put the Commander down if all that wasn’t enough. 

Steve had handled it, though – with a rather permanent solution. 

It had always been an option, of course, whether they liked it or not, but Bruce had considered it a complication of sorts that the Commander was another Steve Rogers, no matter how altered. 

Some things couldn’t be forgiven, though… 

Rhodey was stone-faced as he passed Bruce, halting just as he was about to step onto the ramp, eyes moving towards Tony and Steve. 

“Give them a moment,” Bruce said, supposing that was the best plan of action. 

“It is over,” Thor murmured as he reached them, steps shuffling. He looked weary to the bone. 

“Yeah,” Rhodey agreed, voice strained. “About time.” 

Thor nodded and moved to board the Quinjet, prompting Rhodey to follow him inside. They were still getting settled when Clint came walking out, taking in the scenery. His sharp gaze lingered on the fallen man. 

The armors were moving towards the Quinjet, Tony’s red-and-gold suit carrying War Machine’s limp form rather effortlessly. Clint and Bruce got out of the way, remaining by the ramp while Natasha pulled Sam to his feet and headed towards them. Sam was moving mostly on his own, so Bruce didn’t worry too much, instead keeping his attention on Tony and Steve. 

“Should we do something about the body?” Clint asked at length. 

Natasha and Sam, who had just reached them, looked out towards the Commander’s fallen form as well. 

“Can’t just leave him lying there,” Sam stated. He made a move to step towards the body, but swayed rather dangerously, and Natasha promptly stepped forward to catch up with him. 

“Someone else can deal with that,” she said. “You need to be checked for a concussion or a cracked skull.” 

Sam didn’t argue, and Natasha led him up the ramp to join the others. 

Bruce hesitated, seeing as he might be able to help with the diagnosis, but J.A.R.V.I.S. was also present and perfectly capable of running the equipment, especially while the AI was in charge of Tony’s suit. He opted to stay where he was, waiting for a reaction from their two remaining teammates. After all, it didn’t seem right to touch the body before they gave the green light. 

As if bothered by the sudden crowd of people within the Quinjet, Bucky came walking out, halting at the top of the ramp. He could look around from there, yet remain mostly out of sight. He seemed to prefer blending into the shadows, and after the things he had been made do over the last several decades, Bruce didn’t blame him. It was best to give him his space. 

In the distance, police sirens blared, then died down again. So far, no one had attempted to approach the scene, but that wouldn’t last forever. 

The sound seemed to prompt Steve into action: he sat up, back ramrod straight, then looked around as if taking in the scene for the first time. Tony also shifted beside him and then stood up, appearing ready to move things along. Steve followed his lead, and together they walked away from the bench. 

They passed the body as they headed towards the Quinjet, and Steve stopped, hand reaching out, yet at the last moment he seemed to loathe reclaiming his shield from where it still stood embedded in the Commander’s body. Tony halted beside him, watching silently, and eventually Steve chose to walk on, leaving the shield for the time being. 

Clint nodded in greeting as the two finally reached the Quinjet. “Everyone in one piece?” he asked – then grimaced. “No pun intended,” he added, gesturing towards the Commander’s body which, frankly, was still in one piece, although barely. 

“We should head back to the Tower,” Bruce said, keeping his tone as nonthreatening as possible; Steve still looked a bit queasy, and Bruce had never seen him like this in the aftermath of a battle. 

“Any ideas on what we’ll do with him – and the extra shield?” Clint asked, nodding towards the Commander. 

“And the Tesseract,” Tony mused. 

_“The Tesseract is no longer a concern,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. cut in, the armor stepping out to the top of the ramp. All of them looked up at it expectantly – except for Bucky, who simply moved away a couple steps, keeping his distance as if he were suspecting everyone to turn on him next. 

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, frowning. 

_“It is difficult to be sure, but approximately four minutes ago, there was a power surge that overloaded most of the Tower’s systems. They are rebooting, and from what I can tell, the Tesseract is gone.”_

“Stolen?” Bruce asked. 

_“Gone the way it came, I would assume,”_ the AI replied. _“The preliminary readings suggest a similar event.”_

“Keep an eye on it, and lock down the Tower until we get there,” Tony ordered. “We can’t risk it falling into the hands of someone else…” He trailed off, turning to look at the Commander again. “Is it too far-fetched to imagine that when he died, the Tesseract’s tether to this world was cut?” 

“If his command was what brought it here, then it is possible,” Bruce cautiously agreed. “We know the Tesseract acts as a doorway between two spaces, and it cut into our world upon his request.” 

“His desire to find me,” Tony murmured, words barely audible. There was something haunted, suddenly, in the way he was looking at the Commander’s body. 

_“Sir, perhaps it would be best if you go join the others while I help the team with clean-up,”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. suggested. 

“No,” Tony refused. “I’m seeing this through.” 

“We can’t leave him here,” Steve said, speaking up so suddenly it startled Bruce. “We can’t… let anyone have him,” he went on. “I know how badly S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to test me in the beginning, and getting their hands on a perfect copy…” 

“As much as I wouldn’t mind the idea of someone cutting him into tiny pieces, I agree,” Clint stated. 

“All he ever wanted was to recapture what he had,” Tony said, sounding like he wasn’t quite following the conversation. 

“He was willing to kill all of us to get it,” Steve retorted, rather sharply, then seemed to regret saying it out loud in the next second, his expression almost apologetic. “I know there were other options,” he went on more tentatively. 

“No,” Tony shook his head. “For him, there weren’t. Kill or be killed. If he couldn’t have me, it wasn’t worth it.” He looked at Steve. “I didn’t magically change my mind about being his…” He chose not to say what, exactly. “But I did see a glimpse, no matter how distorted and tiny, of the man he still wanted to be,” he finished. 

“Doesn’t mean he’s not better off dead,” Bucky muttered. 

Tony nodded slowly, expressing that he agreed – even though his facial expression was much more complex. Maybe he regretted that it had come to this. After all, the Commander had been Captain America, once upon a time… 

“J, there’s a tarp in one of the compartments,” Tony spoke up an instant later, tone shifting towards efficient and matter-of-fact. “Let’s get the body wrapped up and ready for transport.” 

Steve made a tiny nod even though Tony hadn’t spoken to him and walked back over to the body, this time seizing the shield without hesitation and yanking it out. He didn’t attach it to his back or arm, however, holding his legendary weapon at his side as if it carried a disease. 

Tony’s armor had moved back inside the Quinjet, soon returning with a tarp in its hands, just as ordered. Without taking it, Tony moved out towards the body, the armor following him. Clint took a step to join them, but Bruce stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Prep the Quinjet for take-off and make sure everyone’s okay,” he said, knowing that Clint’s bandaged wrist might not take kindly to the strain of moving a body. “I’ll go help Tony and Steve.” 

Clint frowned but did as he was told. 

Bucky kept watching from the shadows at the top of the ramp, eyes rapt on the action. He didn’t volunteer to help, but he didn’t go sit down, either. 

Steve wasn’t doing much other than standing off to the side, either, and Bruce hurried to aid Tony. The Iron Man armor was more than enough to move the body around, but Tony seemed adamant that he be allowed to partake in it, and Bruce felt like he had to help, even if it was moral support rather than actual help. 

It was noticeable that Tony was done looking at the body at length, J.A.R.V.I.S. making quick work of covering up the Commander’s upper body with the tarp. 

When Steve finally moved, it was to retrieve the Commander’s shield. He looked like he felt he should help more, but didn’t quite seem able to bring himself that far. 

Once the body was wrapped up, it only took Tony’s armor to carry it into the Quinjet, and the rest of them followed. Clint had the aircraft ready to go, closing the ramp once they were on board and firing up the engines. Everyone took a seat, the body laid out and strapped to one of the tables designed to treat the injured – or worse, for carrying casualties back home. 

No one spoke, most people either nursing injuries or deep in their own thoughts. Bruce monitored the situation, the way he had grown used to over the years, fearing anything that might trigger the Hulk. That was how he spotted Steve glancing towards Tony – who in turn was staring at the wrapped-up body on the table, a distant expression on his face. 

  
  
****

###  **Avengers Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY**

  


Back at the Tower, the team divided into three parts: Steve and Thor headed out to clean up, forgoing medical examinations despite their obvious injuries, whereas Rhodey and Sam voluntarily accepted to be checked out. Tony disappeared with his armor and the Commander’s body, and Steve tried not to think about that. 

Incidentally, it was hard to think of anything else, and once he had showered and changed into fresh clothing – and tossed his bloody shield into the shower for a later cleaning – he headed out to find Tony. 

He could have looked for a long time, but he decided to ask J.A.R.V.I.S. for directions, just in case the AI would volunteer the information, and was given instructions on where to find Tony. 

Steve wasn’t certain whether to call it surprise when he found the other man in a small room where the temperature had been lowered, and which could hardly be called anything but a ‘morgue’. Steve hadn’t known they had one, but it made sense, if one cared to think about it. 

The Commander was laid out on a table at the center of the room, the tarp hanging off the sides, and Tony seemed frozen in place, staring at the body. 

“Do you wish he weren’t dead?” Steve asked before he could help himself. 

Tony jumped, obviously not having realized Steve was there, and looked over his shoulder at him. His eyes lingered on his throat, and Steve couldn’t help swallowing under the scrutiny. 

“I feel like I didn’t do enough,” Tony finally replied. 

“He was beyond everyone’s help,” Steve countered, stepping further inside the room. The chill was already crawling deeper into his flesh, and he had no idea how long Tony had stood here, staring at the corpse of a man who had kidnapped and abused him. 

“Maybe,” Tony said – not sounding like he believed it. 

“You kept telling me he wasn’t my responsibility,” Steve pressed. “He wasn’t yours, either.” 

“It’s not that simple,” Tony snapped, beginning to shiver all of a sudden. Steve wanted to drag him out of this room and close the door permanently behind them, but he had a feeling they weren’t done just yet. 

“Then explain it to me,” Steve requested, trying to make his tone less hostile. 

Tony shook his head, once, as if it were an involuntary spasm of muscles – then sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. He did not, however, shift to remove himself from the room. “He was broken, perhaps beyond salvation, but he was just trying to reconnect with the man he thought could save him.” He looked at Steve. “He was trying to connect with me. I felt it, even when I rejected the rest of it, and it feels like I wasn’t able to focus on what really mattered.” 

“Don’t feel sorry for him,” Steve ordered. “He could have come after you in so many different ways, but I think he ended up choosing the only way he knew by heart: violence.” 

Tony couldn’t deny that, and with a final look at the Commander, he moved to wrap the tarp back around the body, hiding it from view. Steve waited until he exited the room before following. When he closed the door, he expected it to feel good, but just like after delivering that deadly blow, he simply felt hollowed out on the inside. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	42. The Prospect

****

# Chapter 42: The Prospect

  
  


Steve spent a few hours mindlessly scrubbing his shield. He probably could have dropped it off for Tony to deal with, but after their conversation at the morgue, he knew better than to think it would go over well. 

Tony’s feelings towards the Commander were a myriad of mixed messages – just as his feelings for Steve seemed to be. While he pretended to be thinking of nothing in particular as he cleaned the vibranium disc, it was becoming more apparent by the minute that Steve was obsessing over each little detail of his and Tony’s interaction ever since the man was rescued. 

_“I wouldn’t have fought back nearly as much had it been you.”_

Steve’s scrubbing arm halted, fingers tightening around the rag he was using, squeezing the water and soap right out of it. The red of the Commander’s blood was long gone, but he had kept cleaning on autopilot. 

Half of the time, he kept thinking Tony had said that to cheer him up in the form of a morbid joke. 

The rest of the time, he kept going back to the comments the Commander had made, ever since appearing in the middle of the Tower’s living room. Insinuating that Steve would never experience that particular feeling… 

The click of a lock sliding open drew his mind away from his feverish ponderings and into full focus on someone entering his room. Steve rose from his crouched position on the shower floor, dropping the washcloth and gripping the shield tight, just as he began to move towards the doorway of the bathroom, each of his motions as soundless as he could make them. 

“It’s me,” Bucky’s voice called out before he could decide on a strategy. 

Steve relaxed and lowered the shield, stepping out of the bathroom to find Bucky standing in the middle of the bedroom, looking ready to bolt in case Steve didn’t take kindly to his presence. 

“Hi,” Steve said, uncertain how to proceed. It was like constantly balancing on thin ice, hearing the cracks form beneath his feet even when he couldn’t see them. 

“He’s dead now,” Bucky began, clearly having no such problems. “The other you. The Commander.” 

Steve nodded, feeling the tension crawl back into his body. 

Bucky stared at him, studying him. He had stayed behind during the capture mission at Central Park, and Steve had half-expected him to disappear when they got back and the Tesseract was still messing up the Tower’s systems with its vanishing act. 

“You’re not celebrating,” Bucky finally observed. 

“Should I be?” Steve asked, propping the shield against the side of his bed, deciding that it wasn’t going to get any cleaner. 

“You were pretty dead set on stopping him,” Bucky noted. “Killing him was always the safest option.” 

Steve nodded again. 

“It’s Tony, isn’t it?” Bucky guessed, alarming Steve with his jump of logic. 

“Why do you think that?” Steve asked. 

Bucky shrugged and folded his arms over his chest, then began moving around the room as if observing the little details of Steve’s presence there, although there were barely any that Steve himself could find. “I could tell he had mixed feelings about the guy. A bit odd, considering what happened between them.” 

Steve couldn’t agree more. 

Not finding anything of interest, clearly, Bucky stopped and looked at him again. “Maybe it’s you,” he offered. Whether he was just shooting blindly or exploring a theory, Steve didn’t know. Just the fact that Bucky was in his room, instigating a conversation, was surprising enough. 

“We’re not the same,” Steve replied. “At least, that’s what Tony keeps telling me. It seems to be very important to him that I should know that, too.” Tony had made that point more than once, and whether it was to reassure Steve or Tony himself… 

In hindsight, it could have been both. 

“Maybe he likes to draw a line between the two of you: the Commander was corrupt whereas you are as pure as the driven snow.” 

“I’m not…” Steve started, but he supposed that in comparison, he might as well accept Bucky’s wording. “Tony told me there was good in the Commander – or that’s what he was trying to imply, at least. That he might have had the capacity to change.” 

“We all do, right?” Bucky mused, looking at him. 

“Yes,” Steve quickly agreed, knowing Bucky might take it personally if he didn’t. 

“He’ll sort it out in his head, eventually,” Bucky said thoughtfully, eyes straying off Steve’s face to trace the wood-like paneling on the walls. “Emotions are tricky, especially if they conflict with pure reason.” 

“Maybe I should leave, make sure I don’t make it worse,” Steve pondered out loud. “But I don’t want it to look like I’m running away from my responsibilities, if he needs my help.” 

Bucky nodded, watching the walls some more. “What does your gut tell you?” he asked. 

“I don’t think I should consult my gut on this one,” Steve replied dryly. 

“Why not?” Bucky asked. “I think I recall it used to get you places.” It was the first time Bucky admitted to remembering much of anything of his past – or maybe it was just a remark, to get his point across. 

“Really not sure I want to listen to my gut,” Steve muttered. 

“What is it telling you to do?” Bucky asked, openly curious. 

Steve wasn’t certain whether he could trust Bucky yet, but if he withheld the truth from him, it might ruin any chance of trust between them for a long time. After all, Bucky used to know when Steve wasn’t being honest. He didn’t want to push him away, but the feelings and thoughts inside him at this time… 

He wasn’t certain he could trust them. 

“Say it,” Bucky told him. “It will make you feel better.” 

Maybe he was right – or maybe he was just fishing for information, hoping to use it as leverage at some later instance when he needed something from Steve. 

If it had been anyone but Bucky, Steve would have clamped down on the truth. 

“The Commander told me, several times, that I was missing out, not seeing Tony as a potential partner. That I would never know the happiness he had obviously felt, no matter how twisted his version of it had to be.” He couldn’t look at Bucky, nor did he want to look at his shield right now, so he opted to stare at a spot on the floor that was no different from any other section of it. “I keep wondering if maybe he had a point. That Tony and I could have some kind of a… relationship…” He forced himself to snort. “I’ve never fought so much with anyone who’s supposed to be on my side as I’ve fought with him,” he spat out. 

“But your gut is telling you to give it a chance, isn’t it?” Bucky guessed. His tone was steady, almost intimate, like they were sharing secrets in the dark again, like they used to. “If one version of you could fall for him so hard he traveled across the barrier of two realities to be reunited…” 

Bucky made it sound like a damn romantic tale of endless love and a ‘happily ever after’, but Steve couldn’t quite deny there was a piece of truth hidden within that outrageous description. 

“Like I said,” Bucky said, “your gut used to get you places. Why would this time be any different?” 

“You seem awfully calm at the prospect of me romancing another man,” Steve pointed out, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

“I hear it’s a thing these days – not to mention legal,” Bucky replied. “Besides, you were always ahead of your time. No reason to start hitting the brakes now.” 

Steve hated Bucky for supporting this idea, especially when he had no idea how Tony would respond to it, no matter how he approached him about it. 

If he approached him. 

But if he didn’t, how would he know if he was missing out on something that might actually work – and moreover, make him happy? 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	43. The Trial

****

# Chapter 43: The Trial

  
  


The timing came from hell, no matter how he put it. 

Every time he came up with some casual way to gauge Tony’s true feelings, the masochistic part of his mind that liked to torture him reminded Steve that he could count in days – hours, even – how long it had been since the Commander still had Tony captive and raped him in that subway tunnel. 

That was enough to make him abandon all his plans of ever broaching the subject with Tony. Perhaps Steve was simply confused, just like Tony was with his feelings towards the Commander; if he gave it enough time, those thoughts would disappear and he would feel stupid for ever having them. 

However, he kept coming back to the same facts that originally convinced him to give it a shot. Did he really want to spend a lifetime wondering if he’d walked right past a person who could make him happy? If he had looked in all the wrong places when he already had the answer right there? 

Steve wasn’t actively looking for companionship or a relationship, but the Commander’s crazed devotion to Tony, no matter how horribly expressed, had to come from somewhere. 

The Commander had said they had fought each other for years – literally. It didn’t sound like they were set up to be soulmates, just like Steve didn’t feel compatible with Tony on most days. 

Compatibility wasn’t everything, however, because dysfunctional couples often made it work surprisingly well. 

After once again convincing himself that it was worth a shot, that cautious part of his brain decided to pull a card that told Steve he had no right to put Tony in that kind of position, to force him to imagine some kind of a relationship with the double of the man who had abused and violated him. 

Back to square one… 

There were times when Steve thought he had gone insane to even entertain the possibility, seeing as he had never seen Tony as more than a tentative friend at best. To take that to a level that required people to like each other seemed impossible and impractical, and in the end, he told himself to let it go, no matter how much second-guessing it would create within him. 

* * *

Five days after the events in Central Park and the conclusion to their fight against the Commander, Tony declared it was party time. Even the injured members of their team seemed to think that was a good idea, so they all gathered in the newly refurbished common area. 

It was just the team, not even bartenders in sight, which made it a lot more intimate – not to mention crazy. There was no need to keep up appearances, so everyone was drinking a bit heavy-handedly. Even Bruce was sipping alcohol, although in significantly smaller amounts than the others. 

Perhaps Tony thought he needed to out-drink everyone, or maybe he just felt like getting really drunk. Steve couldn’t blame him, after the experience he’d had, even though alcohol consumption wasn’t going to make it better. 

Thor pulled out a flask he shared only between himself and Steve. Bucky had declined to join the party, which was perhaps smart, seeing as Thor’s Asgardian spirits were strong enough to make even Steve feel his brain going for a spin. 

The party was getting pretty outrageous with jokes and laughter, drinking games challenging just about everyone’s limits. Those on the team who were still on the mend began to slow down, eventually, even though ‘ _work hard, party harder_ ’ seemed to be on everyone’s lips. 

Tony parted from the crowd at some point, and once Steve noticed, he headed out to find him. He finally located Tony in his workshop, having a drink and staring at the safe where the now-missing Tesseract had been. 

Steve decided it was infinitely better than finding Tony in the morgue, keeping the Commander’s body company, which Tony had said would be incinerated sometime soon. The shield would be a bit trickier, and he had implied Steve might want to consider keeping it as a spare. After all, that kind of a chance didn’t come along too often, if ever. 

“Hey,” Steve greeted as he entered. The door that had been open until now slid shut behind him, sealing them away from the rest of the party. 

“This party was an excellent idea,” Tony mused into his drink, then pushed himself around on the edge of the table where he was seated in order to look at Steve. “Even you’re in party mode.” He saluted Steve with his glass. “Good for you, Cap!” 

“Party seems to be slowing down a bit,” Steve observed. “Maybe you should, too,” he added, attempting to make it a subtle hint that Tony was rather drunk. 

“Nah,” Tony refused and swung back his drink, swallowing with a grimace. 

“It won’t stop you from having fun,” Steve offered gently. “But it will stop you from bending over the toilet sometime in the near future.” 

Tony snorted, then suppressed a burb. “Clearly you don’t know me very well. I know my limits. Years of experience.” 

That Steve could believe. 

They looked at each other for a moment, inexplicably silent. It was as if they were having a conversation, only they weren’t, but it felt like something was happening instead of simple staring. 

“I like your shirt,” Tony finally commented, totally at random. 

“I think I would like to like you,” Steve replied, his lips completely botching up the sentence he had been working over and over in his mind for days. 

“What?” Tony asked, frowning. 

Steve felt like kicking himself – or getting some more of that Asgardian liquor until he passed out and had a bout of mini-amnesia to erase this conversation from his mind. Perhaps denial would do the trick, too. 

“Nothing,” Steve mumbled when Tony kept looking at him for an explanation. 

“Nuh huh,” Tony refused, pointing a finger at him. “You said something about liking me.” 

“Wanting to like you,” Steve corrected. 

“You don’t like me?” Tony asked, and he sounded hurt, suddenly. 

“Uh, no,” Steve mumbled. “I mean, I do _like_ you. Usually. I would just like to…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it. He’d had so many elaborate conversations figured out in his head, most of them going over very smoothly – too smoothly. Some of them had Tony agreeable to his interests, whereas the others ended in refusal and sometimes even with an armored fist to Steve’s face. 

Either way, all of those versions had gone over so much smoother than his current attempts at communicating his complex and often contradictory feelings. 

“What?” Tony asked, swaying slightly in his seat but not jumping down. “You would like what?” His eyes bore into him, demanding explication. 

“I don’t know!” Steve exclaimed, frustrated. He began to pace, restless. “I’m curious, but it’s a horrible idea – horrible timing. There’s no way I can predict how you’d respond, so it’s safer not to act on it. I keep coming back to it, though, and people always say not to live with regrets and I totally get that –” 

Tony’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the front of the shirt he had complimented earlier, dragging Steve around and right into a kiss. They both froze for an instant, lips unmoving, and frankly, it was no peck either; Steve felt every square inch of his lips being pressed against Tony’s mouth, and even when Tony’s hand released him and Steve took a step back, he could still recall the pressure of the touch as if he hadn’t lost it just now. 

Something crashed in the living room outside, followed by shouting and laughter, and Steve snapped out of it, exiting the lab so fast he almost dislodged the sliding door as he struck his shoulder against it. 

Tony didn’t call after him. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	44. The Mistake

****

# Chapter 44: The Mistake

  
  


The aftermath of the party felt like good ol’ times – including one hell of a hangover. 

Tony recalled retreating to his room before the party had even truly ended, only to continue some partying of his own. Or rather, more alcohol consumption; it hadn’t been much of a party anymore at that point, his body already fairly liquored as it were. 

Come midday and his awakening to the horribly painful new day, Tony didn’t at first recall why, exactly, he had made the mistake of drinking _too much_. He would never admit it, but he, too, had a limit – obviously – and he had passed it spectacularly. 

“J,” he groaned from the bed, “what did I do?” He left it up to the AI to figure out the cryptic request. 

Apparently, it wasn’t as cryptic as he had thought, seeing as J.A.R.V.I.S. answered almost immediately: _“I believe you are referring to your kiss with Captain Rogers, sir.”_

Oh, hell. 

Tony could have gone on happily with his life without ever remembering that part of the night, but he supposed it was for the best he recalled it now instead of later, seeing as it was very doubtful that the other party of said kiss was likely to forget it had happened. 

“Why?” Tony moaned, tossing his arm across his eyes. 

_“That I cannot answer.”_

“Didn’t expect you to.” 

What the hell was wrong with him? Kissing Steve… If one of his bots had done something this caliber of insane, he would have assumed their wires were crossed the wrong way. What was his excuse? 

He needed to find Steve and apologize before the good Captain got it in his head that Tony was a very screwed-up individual. 

Well, perhaps he was; his actions proved that point quite eloquently. However, kissing Cap hadn’t been a completely foreign thought to him before, although the lines had become somewhat blurred thanks to the Commander. That experience had put things into a new perspective, over-complicating matters even when Tony thought he and Steve had become closer because of it. 

There was no better bonding catalyst than trauma, obviously – especially for superheroes. 

Tony forced himself upright, which almost made him empty the contents of his stomach right then and there. He swallowed it back, however, and slowly made his way out of bed and into the bathroom. After a cold shower, vigorous tooth-brushing and making himself at least semi-presentable, Tony headed to the kitchen to make himself a smoothie. There was no way he was having a potentially explosive conversation on an empty stomach, but he was also afraid to let any more time pass than was absolutely necessary. 

J.A.R.V.I.S. confirmed Steve was in his room, and Tony walked to his door, took a deep breath, then knocked. There was no reply, so he knocked some more, keeping it up until Steve came to open. 

Clearly, he wasn’t expecting to find Tony there, if his expression was anything to go by. 

“Hi,” Tony started and ran a hand through his hair. “Can I come in?” 

Steve hesitated, one hand on the door. If he really wanted to, he could slam it in Tony’s face and not let him in. Tony made no move to try and force himself inside despite the odds, wanting Steve to make the choice for himself. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Steve finally said. 

_Shit_ , Tony chanted in his mind. 

“I’m sorry about last night,” Tony said. “It was completely out of line and no amount of alcohol should justify what I did,” he admitted. 

Steve frowned. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Tony stopped to check his memory – which was spotty, but not that spotty. “I kissed you,” Tony said. “I’m pretty sure I started it.” 

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. I led you on.” 

“Since when?” Tony asked incredulously. “I think I would recall it if you did.” 

Steve pressed his lips together, like he didn’t want to tell him more. Tony, however, wasn’t buying any of it without proof, and Steve must have realized that because he sighed shortly after, looking tired. “I said I liked you – that I wanted to like you more.” 

“That hardly counts as ‘leading me on’,” Tony countered. 

“Yeah, it didn’t go over too smoothly,” Steve agreed ruefully. “I had it all sorted out in my head, but it always felt like the wrong time… And that’s because it is,” he added, almost angrily. “I never should have said anything because it was going to always end like this, with you apologizing about something that wasn’t your fault.” 

Tony blinked, feeling very confused. Clearly, Steve wasn’t about to accept his apology, and there was only one good reason why that was. “Are you telling me you’ve been trying to come up with a way to let me know you _like_ me? In light of all that’s happened?” 

Steve shrugged. “Exactly. Horrible timing, like I said. But it wasn’t until the Commander that I even considered it –” 

It was most likely the only time Tony was ever going to hit Steve totally out of the blue, taking the super-soldier by surprise. 

And, while Steve was still gaping at him, his cheek red from the impact, Tony raised his smarting hand again and pulled Steve into another kiss. 

Last night, it had been something that could barely be called a kiss, and this one wasn’t much better. However, they were both sober, albeit hungover, and they both pulled back at the same time. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, a frown so deep on his face it might well have become permanent if left there for too long. 

“Making a mistake, maybe,” Tony offered. “Or starting something that will work despite the odds.” 

“Those are pretty big odds,” Steve reminded him. However, he hadn’t moved away, staying right there in Tony’s space – or allowing Tony to stay in his, depending on how you looked at it. 

“I know,” he rolled his eyes, frustrated. The motion of his eyes made his head hurt, and Tony knew he had better go lie down soon. “But you reached the same conclusion, right?” 

Steve looked away, but clearly there was something he had been wanting to talk to Tony about, and he doubted it was to tell him how much of a bad idea this was. After all, they didn’t need to have that talk, seeing as they both knew that by default. 

What they probably needed to talk about was the flipside of the coin. 

“We need to talk this through, but first, I need to lie down,” Tony said, knowing it was a shitty way to end the conversation but he was starting to feel pretty woozy. 

“I have a bed,” Steve blurted out, then looked like he wanted to kick himself. “I won’t be in it,” he added, not really managing to save face. “I think we should have that talk, too,” he concluded, serious again. 

It was one of the rare times in Tony’s life he got into another person’s bed with the solid intention of doing nothing more than having a conversation. 

  
  
  
  
_to be continued…_


	45. The Consensus

****

# Chapter 45: The Consensus

  
  


Steve had no idea how they had ended up here, Tony propped up on the pillows in his bed after punching Steve in the face and then kissing him again, now drinking the smoothie he had brought along with him. 

Neither kiss measured up to the ones Steve had experienced before, but he wasn’t interested in that. Those kisses shouldn’t have even happened, but here they were because of them, sorting out the myriad of thoughts and feelings normal people, hopefully, never had to deal with. 

“What are we doing?” Steve asked, pulling a chair into the bedroom but not close enough to Tony to make it seem like he was crowding him. 

“We’re talking – which is probably the smartest, safest thing we could be doing,” Tony answered. “There’s no way this will work if we just rush headlong into it.” 

“Into what?” 

“You tell me.” 

They stared at each other for a moment. Steve was the first to look away because on some level, he still blamed himself for starting all this even though Tony had been the one to pull him into that kiss last night. 

“The things he said, about me missing out because I couldn’t see you the same way…” Steve was still uncertain whether saying it was a good idea. “It got me thinking. Obviously, I’ve spent a few too many hours obsessing over it.” 

“I didn’t know it struck you so hard,” Tony said, cradling the smoothie bottle. 

“Neither did I, but the thought hasn’t left me alone,” Steve admitted, looking directly at Tony again. “I missed out on so much. I waited too long, didn’t think it was the right time even though I felt like it was the right person.” 

“But you don’t feel that with me,” Tony guessed. 

“We barely get along when we’re in the same room for more than a couple minutes,” Steve huffed. “That was why it didn’t make sense to me at first, but you kept saying we came from the same life – that while we weren’t the same, there was a lot we shared.” Steve still didn’t like that thought, but he couldn’t dismiss it either, seeing as it was probably true. 

“We’ll never know how much I shared with that other Tony Stark,” Tony reminded him. “Could be it worked for them, but it will never work for us.” 

“Then why kiss me – twice?” 

Tony’s jaw snapped shut and it was his turn to look away. 

“It’s not… because of him, is it?” Steve asked. He didn’t want to bring it up, but he needed to know. 

“Not really,” Tony replied slowly. “I never thought of you that way, but this thing opened my eyes to new possibilities.” His eyes snapped towards Steve’s face. “It doesn’t mean you’ll remind me of him, every second of every day. Sure, there will be times, I’m sure, and all this could be just some kind of a stress response from us,” he added, gesturing between them. 

“Maybe we should wait,” Steve suggested. “See how we feel about it after some time has passed.” 

“But how much time is enough?” Tony asked. “You already waited too long, once.” He shifted, sitting up slightly. “I’m not meaning to rush you,” he clarified, playing with the bottle, rolling it back and forth between his hands. Obviously, it served as a reason not to look at Steve again. 

“I know,” Steve said, voice dropping a few notes even though he didn’t mean it to. The weight of that knowledge was all too real sometimes… “If we rush this, I think it will ruin whatever friendship we’ve built between us,” he decided. “I’ll do something and you’ll hate me for it, the way you hated him.” 

Tony snorted. “Those things don’t happen accidentally, Steve,” he argued. “For me to hate you like I hated him, you would have to actually do something bad and mean it.” 

“Never,” Steve retorted instinctively. “I would never do that. I promised you before, and I promise you again. No matter how angry you make me sometimes.” 

Tony gave him the softest of smiles. “I believe you. It might sound like very little to you, but it’s more than that. It’s a good place to start building something new, no matter the bad stuff that’s right behind us.” 

Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that the damage the Commander had done would come between them, eventually, in one form or another, but he supposed it would make itself known eventually even if they didn’t pursue this. Things had a way of coming back to haunt them. 

So, instead of running away from it, perhaps the smart thing was to learn from their mistakes, overcome the obstacles as they came – and embrace untold possibilities. 

Tony drained his smoothie, setting it on the bedside table, then yawned. He looked like he could do with a few more hours of sleep. 

“I should probably hit the gym,” Steve offered, to give Tony some distance. 

“Or, you could come lie down with me and catch up on some more of your sleep; it looks like you didn’t get much last night, and I recall you being pretty wasted, too.” 

Steve couldn’t deny either of those points, but he hesitated. “What happened to waiting?” 

“You don’t have to lie down on top of me,” Tony rolled his eyes. “I would prefer it if you didn’t, actually, for a while…” Then, he scooted to one side of the bed and patted the empty space beside him. 

Slowly, Steve moved to the appointed side of the bed, and after getting a nod of confirmation from Tony he slowly sat down and then moved to lie down. 

There was plenty of space left between them, the bed large enough for the two of them to claim their space and never touch each other. Steve hadn’t thought it was practical to have such a large bed for just one person, but now he was glad it was there. 

“Okay?” Tony asked, lying on his side, looking at Steve and appearing relatively comfortable. 

“Okay,” Steve agreed. Tony was right there, within his reach, but for the time being he was satisfied not to reach across that distance. Instead, he would trust Tony to be there, and they would bridge the gap at a pace that worked for them, no matter what their alternative versions had done before them. 

This was their beginning, after all, and no one else’s. 

And even though it felt like someone had already robbed a chunk of Steve’s time and experiences with Tony, leaving an ugly stain behind for him to clean up, he was determined to see this through and make this _theirs_. 

  
  
  
  
****

#### The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who has been reading and commenting during these last three months! You've given me an awesome posting experience. ♥
> 
> Happy reading to those of you who have waited for the posting to conclude. :)
> 
> P.S. At this point it looks very likely I'll be writing a sequel to this one, so, who knows, maybe later this year... ;)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Commander in Heaven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355960) by [Hayluhalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayluhalo/pseuds/Hayluhalo)
  * [Doodle inspired by "The Corrupt and the Pure"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377653) by [Hayluhalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayluhalo/pseuds/Hayluhalo)
  * [Art inspired by 'The Corrupt and the Pure'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793380) by [Hayluhalo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayluhalo/pseuds/Hayluhalo)




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